Coming Home
by TereC
Summary: This is the second story in the Skipped Stones series and is written by Kat6919 and me. Skipped Stones is available here and can be found under my author name.


TITLE: Skipped Stones: Coming Home (the second story in the Skipped Stones trilogy)  
AUTHOR: Tere C and Kat6919--Please, readers, email us with constructive feedback.   
EMAIL: tere_c@cliffhanger.com and airmankit@yahoo.com  
CATEGORY: Hurt/Comfort, UST, Mild Angst   
PAIRING: Sam/Jack   
SPOILERS: Solitudes, Into the Fire, Divide & Conquer, Scorched Earth, Entity, Ascension 

SEASON / SEQUEL: Takes place in Season 5 sometime after The Fifth Man and before Fail Safe  
RATING: PG-13  
CONTENT WARNINGS: mild language (hey, that's Jack for you)   
SUMMARY: Don't want to give it away ;)  
STATUS: Complete for a middle story in a trilogy  
ARCHIVE: Heliopolis, Fanfiction.net, and the Skipped Stones website (http://tere__c.tripod.com)  
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The situations and original story are the property of the author. Not to be archived without permission of the author.   
AUTHORS' NOTES: Thanks to AC47 and Ellory1 (and anyone else who let Tere bounce ideas off of your head), without your help, we would still be working on this. IF YOU HAVEN'T READ SKIPPED STONES PART 1, GO TO BOTTOM OF PAGE FOR LINK. 

**Skipped Stones: Prologue**

Exiting the Stargate, the first things they noticed were the claxons ringing incessantly and people. People with guns. Aimed at them.

Jack pulled his baseball cap off his head and shook the rain from it, slapping it against his leg, and flinging muddy water across the ramp. "Lucy! We're home!" he called loudly in a fake Cuban accent.

Daniel skidded through the door to the gate room, Teal'c close on his heels. Stunned, Daniel stood staring; looking from Carter to Jack, then finally back to Carter. "You . . . you're alive?" he stammered.

"You bet," Jack said. "Gee, Daniel. Did you miss us?"

Teal'c looked just as stunned as Daniel. "How is this possible?"

Daniel shook his head and hesitantly walked up the ramp to Sam. He stared at her as if she were a ghost. "I don't know, Teal'c, but . . . thank God," he said, his voice scarcely a whisper and his eyes filled with tears. He grasped her face gently with trembling hands and kissed her—a long, deep hungering kiss. Hugging her close to him in an intimate, familiar way, he murmured, "Sam, I thought I'd lost you."

Sam's froze within his embrace. "Daniel? What's going on here?" she asked, too taken aback to move. 

After watching the younger man plant one on Carter, Jack shared her shocked expression. "Yeah, _Daniel, what is going on?"_

"That's just what I'd like to know," General Hammond said, entering the room. "Who the hell are you people?"

**And now, the conclusion: Coming Home**

Unable to believe what had just happened, Sam backed out of Daniel's embrace to stand nearer to Jack. She closed her eyes and swayed unsteadily. To all watching, she seemed about to collapse.

Dropping the bag he carried, Jack stepped forward to grasp her elbow. "Carter?" 

"Sam?" Daniel asked as he started to rush to her side. He stopped short when Jack cut him a stern glare. 

"Carter, you okay?" Jack asked again, low and deep near her ear. His concern for her was evident.

"I-I'm fine, sir . . . Daniel," she stammered. Stunned was what she was. They'd been skipped to another multiverse--another version of their reality. Sam felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She was so certain they were home.

"I repeat, what _is going on here?" Hammond blustered. "Just who are you?" _

Jack looked from Sam, who appeared shaky at best, to the equally shocked general. "She needs medical attention, sir. Please, can we discuss this _after she's been checked out?"_

General Hammond nodded. "Dr. Jackson, Teal'c, escort these two to the infirmary." And, then to the familiar strangers, he said, "Please, surrender your weapons."

Sam glanced up to her CO, unsure of the wisdom of disarming themselves in this unknown reality. Jack nodded and she complied, unclipping her P-90 from her vest while he handed over his weapon and both of the zats. As they started down the ramp, Sam remembered the pack she'd dropped when Daniel kissed her. She turned to retrieve it to the unmistakable sound of weapons arming. 

"Sir, I swear, it's only supplies," Sam pleaded, "please, I just need . . ." 

The general nodded his consent, and she moved cautiously to the pack. Fishing inside for the last alternate Sam's pictures, she found the photos before pushing the journal deeper into the pack. When she pulled her hand out, all that was seen were her notes, the photos concealed within. 

"See, just my notes," Sam said, holding the papers up high, "I'll need them to help explain all of this."

Daniel and Teal'c led the way from the gate room, Jack and Sam sandwiched between them and armed security officers, their heavy footfalls echoing through the corridor. After nearly four days of abject silence in the deserted mountain facility, the sound of a living, breathing facility seemed peculiar. Jack leaned down close to her ear and whispered, "Missed it by _that much."_

Fraiser cleared Jack through the infirmary quickly, and he was escorted to a holding cell with those damned lumpy mattresses. He knew that they'd be debriefed following Sam's release from the infirmary. 

God, they'd gotten close. Sam's plan had nearly worked. In fact, until Daniel laid a wet one on Sam, Jack had thought they _were home—well, until that kiss and all of the guns aimed at them. There was something about the sound of a dozen weapons arming at once that just didn't bode well._

An event similar to what they'd experienced must have happened here. That was the only way to explain the weird reaction they received in the gate room. The reality of this SGC couldn't be very far off from theirs, especially with the obvious activity on PL3-93X. Judging by people's responses when they'd exited the gate, the Jack and Sam of this reality were in the thick of it, too.

Jack plumped the thin pillow on the bed, turning it vertical to lean against the bedrail, and stretched out, his hands behind his head, brow furrowed in thought. During the exam, Fraiser had seemed downright distant. The color had drained from her face and, for once, she had nothing to say about his knee. Just treat and release. Of course, she'd had to take blood to run a DNA; although, that wasn't the excuse she gave. We'd done the same thing with Kawalsky and Samantha when they escaped to our reality, Jack thought. 

When _they'd come to us. And before that, Daniel at the SGC where his counterpart had been killed . . . Jack rubbed his hands over his face, remembering the numbers of alternates Daniel had scanned through with the hand device Samantha possessed. Boggled the mind, all these different realities to infinity. How the hell would he and Sam ever find their way home? _

Unable to sit still, Jack launched himself from the bed and began to pace within the small room. Kawalsky and Samantha had been fully prepared to stay had she not experienced that entrophic thingy. And, the way these folks here were acting, it was quite possible that their Jack and Sam were dead. Unless his Sam could figure something out, he'd need to consider the fact that this reality could end up as home. Jack passed the door and peeked out the window to find Daniel on the other side. Jack stepped back to allow the airman guarding the door to open it and allow Daniel in. 

"So, Daniel. What'd we miss?" Jack asked, nervously shoving his hands in his pockets and knowing full well this wasn't _his Daniel._

"Uh . . . Jack . . . what happened on PL3-93X?" Daniel asked, leaning against the door.

Jack stared at him, unsure of how much to reveal. Thinking it might be better to play it safe, Jack figured he'd try to learn more about this reality before he revealed Carter's and his origins. "I honestly don't know, Daniel. How about you tell me?" 

"Uhm, okay. I dialed us out. You ordered Teal'c and me through first while you and Sam covered our backs. We got here. You two never did."

"I kind of figured that, Daniel. What happened after you got here?"

Daniel cleared his throat before continuing. "We waited for you to dial back—I didn't want us to dial back immediately because it would lock you out." Jack nodded and Daniel went on. "When you failed to reconnect, Hammond gave the go ahead for us to return to the planet with SG-6."

"And?"

"And, when we got there, the two of you were gone. We, uh, at the pillars where you and Sam were when we went through the gate, we found your weapons." Daniel paused and looked down at his feet as his eyes began to tear up. He sniffed hard and cleared his throat again before speaking. "We found the weapons lying in this grayish ash."

Jack sat down on the bed. "I'm missing something here, Daniel. It's been a long day."

Daniel rubbed his eyes under his glasses and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "We collected the ash—it was right where you'd both been—and brought it back here. Janet found bone fragments large enough to extract DNA . . . there was no question that we'd found what was left of you and . . . Sam . . . you'd been reduced to—" Daniel stopped, his voice thick with emotion. 

"Oh. Oh!" Jack said, realizing what Daniel was saying. "Wow."

Jack watched Daniel for a bit in silence while Daniel focused his thoughts, knowing he'd continue with the story when he was ready. 

"We, uh, we'd just come back from a memorial service for you." Daniel paused to clear the constriction he felt in his throat. 

"And then?" Jack prodded.

"And then the Stargate engaged and it was SG-1's IDC code. I can't understand how we could bring home your remains and still . . . . If you two were abducted by whatever?" The hope in Daniel's voice tore through Jack's soul.

Jack shook his head. "No," he said, tiredly running his hands over his hair. "We weren't captured."

Daniel moved to sit on the other bunk across from Jack. "Then, explain it to me, Jack. I don't understand."

"Carter can explain this way better than me. Can't this wait until we—"

"Jack, we thought the two of you were dead. I thought I'd never see my best friend or my wife again. Please, tell me what happened to you?"

Jack's head popped up when he heard that. _His_ _wife_—Carter? Okay, clearly not a good time to find out how the hell Daniel ended up married to Sam, but it sure explained a hell of a lot about what happened in the gate room. _Change the subject, O'Neill_. "Have you seen her?"

"Janet's x-raying her chest now. Something about her ribs?"

"Oh, yeah. Long story."

"Janet said you did a good job taking care of her . . . Thanks," Daniel said.

Jack smiled wryly. "It's all a part of the job."

'Yeah. I guess it is."

They sat in silence for a while; Daniel wanting to know more and Jack afraid to say more—Jack just didn't have the heart to tell Daniel that this Sam wasn't the Sam who died, the Sam who'd married him. It would be easier coming from . . . well, maybe not easier, but Jack just couldn't do it even though he knew he had to say something to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I . . . I'm sorry for what you're going through," Jack finally said, choosing his words carefully.

Daniel sat forward on the bed and studied his friend's face. "But?"

"No. No 'buts.'" Jack looked down, averting his gaze, worried that Daniel would see the truth in them.

"No, I distinctly heard a space where you were pausing for a 'but,'" Daniel argued.

The door opened and both men looked up to see the airman enter. "Sorry, sirs, but General Hammond is ready for you."

Jack stood quickly and followed the airman from the room leaving Daniel on the bed, his brow furrowing in thought as he considered what Jack didn't say. 

SAM SAT ON THE INFIRMARY BED and stared into space. So many questions ran through her head with so many possible answers. She'd been so sure that they had made it home. The spent casing she found on PL3-93X had been exactly where she and the colonel had taken cover. 

When she and the colonel exited the wormhole into an SGC full of people, Sam had breathed a sigh of relief. Then, to have weapons pointed at them by the soldiers guarding the gate . . . Even that could have been explained had Daniel not _kissed_ her. It hadn't been kiss between friends, either. It was a kiss normally shared between intimates and lovers; the kind of kiss that she'd shared with Jack. 

"Okay." Janet's voice broke into her thoughts. "Let's see what kind of damage you did yourself this time."

Sam looked up to see Janet pulling the privacy curtain around the bed. "Janet."

"You know . . . I thought we'd lost you."

"Uhm . . . yeah, so I've gathered," Sam said. "What exactly happened before . . . "

"Daniel and Teal'c found what I can only describe as your ashes."

"Oh my God," Sam whispered. 

"We had enough bone fragments to run DNA scans. There was no question in my mind what we found. But, here you are. How is this possible?" 

"Got me there, Janet" Sam responded. "I'm not too sure about much at the moment."

Janet gave her a questioning look, cocking an eyebrow as she did, but she didn't press further. Her friend looked like she was ready to drop from exhaustion. "Sam, take off your shirt so I can have a look."

"What?"

"Your ribs. The colonel said you were injured?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure." Sam started to pull off the shirt, wincing as she raised her arms.

"Here, let me," Janet said. She reached over and helped ease the shirt over Sam's head. "Looks like Jack did a good job with the bandages."

"Yeah, he did. Since when did you start calling him Jack?

Janet looked slightly startled. "Oh." Moving behind Sam, she started unwrapping the bandages.

"'Oh?' Janet?"

"Well, we decided to keep it quiet for now." 

Sam saw Janet frown when she saw Sam's bruised ribcage. "You should have seen them three days ago," Sam said.

The grim set of her mouth relaxed as Janet's eyes flicked up to meet Sam's. "I can imagine. You still look pretty bad now."

"So, what are you keeping quiet?" Sam asked, still staring at Janet. _Ohmygod. "Janet, are you saying you and the colonel are involved? With each other?"_

"Yes, we told you, Daniel and Teal'c just last week." Janet continued her examination, running her fingers up the left side of Sam's torso and checking each rib carefully.

Wincing slightly, Sam persisted with her line of questioning. "So, you've only been involved a short time?"

"Yes—Sam, what's going on here? You know this. Don't you remember?"

Sam wondered how much she should say. Given Daniel's earlier reaction to her, Sam really didn't know how much she should reveal. Finally, she decided to settle on a variation of the truth. "No. Not really."

Janet's brow crinkled with concern as she finished her examination. "Well, nothing feels broken, but I'd still like to run some x-rays to be sure. And, I'd like to get an MRI, too, to rule out a head injury. You know that would explain the memory loss."

"Janet, that really isn't necessary," Sam protested. "I didn't hit my head, but I am really tired and I don't want to get into this until after the briefing."

"Okay. But, I won't hesitate to—"

"Okay, okay. I understand, Janet. If I crap out, you'll scan me," Sam said. Sighing, she eased of the bed. "Let's do the x-rays so I can get to the debriefing." 

SAM PACED THE ROOM in an effort to keep awake and alert. Rewrapped and dressed in fresh BDUs, she was more than ready to get to the debriefing and speak with Jack. They needed to find out what was going on in this multiverse if they were going to be able to figure out another way back to their own.

The clicking of Janet's heels against the concrete floor startled Sam from her thoughts. x-ray in hand, Janet held the black film up to the light to show Sam. 

"Okay, you do have two small hairline fractures. Here and here," she said, pointing to two small shadows on different ribs along Sam's right side. "But, this is nothing that won't heal on it's own with a little rest and care on your part. The colonel did exactly what he should have. I'm still concerned about the memory loss though. I wish you would agree to an MRI."

Sam ran her hands through her hair to focus her thoughts. "Janet, I promise you nothing is wrong with my head. Am I free to go? I really want to get the briefing over with. We haven't had much sleep these past few days." 

Realizing that Sam must really be exhausted since it wasn't in her nature to admit that she needed to rest, Janet sighed. "Okay, but I want to give you something for the pain."

"Please don't. It will just make me groggier. I need to be alert."

"You need something so you can rest, and I promise it'll take a while before you feel the effects so you should be fine for the debriefing." She walked over to the drug cabinet, took out a bottle of pills, and handed them to Sam along with a glass of water. "Take one now and then every 6 hours as needed."

Popping a pill in her mouth and washing it down, Sam passed the glass back and eased off the bed. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, I'll let the General know you're on your way. I'm sure Daniel will be happy to have some time with you, too. Have you had a chance to talk to him yet."

"No, only briefly when we returned."

"He was very upset when we thought you were dead. He looked so lost at the memorial service."

"He did seem quite, uh, relieved to see me." Sam responded.

"Of course he was relieved. Why wouldn't he be?" Janet looked puzzled.

"Oh . . . right." Sam stammered "Look, Janet, I need to get to the debriefing. We'll talk later, okay?" Sam started toward the door.

"How about breakfast?"

"Sure. Breakfast would be great." Sam backed into the hallway, turned and headed toward the debriefing room. That was . . . uncomfortable. Sam felt as if she'd stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone; everything was off just enough to be downright weird.

When Jack entered the briefing room, Teal'c and Sam were already seated. She looked bone-tired, which was how he felt. As he took the seat next to her, Jack glanced at his watch—they'd been up, oh, about 19 hours and were running on a short night's sleep to boot. He _knew_ they should have waited until morning to try to get home, but . . . Jack rubbed his eyes and tried to prepare for explaining all of this to these people. He knew this briefing would be . . . difficult.

"How are you doing?" he asked softly, leaning protectively toward her.

Sam fumbled with the notes she brought with her, smoothing the wrinkles from the pages. "Tired, sir. Janet insisted on a painkiller. I'm afraid it's started working sooner than she expected."

"Painkiller?"

"I'm okay. I'll explain later," she said, looking up as Daniel came into the room. Daniel took the seat next to Teal'c and across from Sam, his eyes never leaving her face.

_Shit, Jack thought, watching Daniel watch Sam. Jack really didn't want to do this to him—it was obvious that Daniel had been head-over-heels in love with his wife. _

But what other choice did Jack have? This Sam didn't belong to Daniel—hell, Jack doubted that she'd ever _belong to anyone. Jack had always figured that if Sam ever chose a future with him, he and Sam would just __be._

Hammond walked into the briefing, shaking Jack from his thoughts, and took his position at the head of the table, flanked on either side by Daniel and Sam. The general had several file folders in hand that he dropped on the table, and then he stood there scanning the faces of the people in front of him. 

"Three days ago we retrieved the remains of Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter. I know this because Dr. Fraiser ran a DNA analysis on what little we were able to recover which confirmed conclusively that Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter were lost in the line of duty on PL3-93X." General Hammond took his chair before continuing. "I'm going to ask you again, who are you people?" 

Leaning forward in his seat and braced by his elbows on the briefing table, Jack cleared his throat before speaking. "I'm Colonel Jonathon 'Jack' O'Neill, head of SG-1, and this is Major Samantha Carter."

"Then whose remains did we bring back from PL3-93X?" Hammond asked.

Daniel jumped in before either Jack or Sam could answer. "Well, obviously, there's been some sort of mistake, General. What we brought back was either analyzed incorrectly or an alien ploy to make it appear they were dead."

Neither Sam nor Jack spoke, nor did either appear extremely comfortable with Daniel's assertion. Sam fiddled with her notes while Jack chose to stare at his hands, which he'd clasped together in front of him on the table.

"_What, Jack? Tell him what happened to you—tell him I'm right, Sam."_

"Colonel?" Sam said softly, unsure what had transpired between Jack and Daniel. Jack laid his hand on her arm reassuringly.

Deliberately avoiding Daniel's unwavering stare, Jack addressed Hammond. "Sir, this is going to be hard to believe, but . . ." Jack took a deep breath before he plunged the proverbial knife into Daniel's heart. "I can only believe that the remains brought back were that of Colonel Jack O'Neill and Major Samantha Carter—_your Carter and O'Neill." Jack nodded toward Sam as he said, "Carter and I, sir, we don't belong here."_

The other three men gaped at Jack as if he'd spoken in another dead language, had lost his mind, or both. Jack couldn't decide which. 

Hammond was first to recover. "Major Carter, what is he—?"

"He's right. We're from an alternate universe, general," she said. 

And Jack said, "The same blast wave that killed your Carter and O'Neill caused the Stargate to s-sk—" Jack looked to Sam for confirmation of his words. She nodded and he continued, "Skip us from our reality to a different one."

"One in which it appeared the inhabitants of Earth were annihilated," Sam said. "I thought I'd found a way to get us home . . . but—"

"But instead, we landed here. In your reality instead of ours," Jack said.

"This is impossible!" Daniel blurted unable to contain himself.

"I take it you haven't experienced alternative universes?" Sam asked. "Multiverses to use the correct term. You haven't had visitors from infinite possible realities?" 

"No. We haven't," Daniel answered. He turned from Sam to face Hammond. "General, did Janet do a brain scan when she examined them? Like she did when we were affected by Lieutenant Tyler?"

"We're _not delusional, Daniel!" Jack said._

"But, Jack, what you're telling us sounds impossible." Daniel braced his hands on the table as he stood, challenging Jack. "_You_ listen to what you're saying and then you _tell me your minds haven't been altered. My God, Jack! My wife is sitting right there and she's acting like I'm a stranger—!" _

"That's because you are! _She isn't your wife!" Jack said, launching out of his chair to stand opposite Daniel, the table separating the two._

"Wife?" Sam repeated softly. She paled as she spoke. "In this reality, Samantha is—was your wife?"

Daniel's expression softened as he looked down at her. "No. In this reality, _you_, Samantha, are my wife."

_Oh, God, Sam thought. __His wife.__ No wonder . . . Her eyes began to sting with tears and Sam blinked rapidly to contain a rush of emotion from the shock that a version of her had been married to one of her best friends. Flat and even in tone, belying the shakiness felt, Sam spoke. "No, Daniel. I'm sorry, but I'm not." She paused to inhale and exhale slowly before continuing. "I'm __a Samantha Carter from a different multiverse. If . . . if you found evidence that led you to believe that your wife, Sam Carter, was dead—then, I'm sorry, but she is."_

Daniel looked from Sam to Jack. "Jack?" Jack sat down and looked away, unable to meet Daniel's eyes. "You were my best man—surely you remem—" Daniel stopped and closed his eyes, his lower lip quivering as their words sunk in—_she's still . . . gone. Groaning out of frustration and anger and grief, Daniel swept his hand across the table sending Hammond's files flying before storming out of the room._

Teal'c asked, "General Hammond, please excuse me." He stood without waiting to be dismissed and went after Daniel. 

"Sir, I'm sorry," Sam said to General Hammond. "I didn't know . . ."

"To have the two of you back today after he fought like hell to keep it together at the memorial—you have to understand how . . . crazy, for lack of a better word, this all sounds, major," General Hammond answered. 

"Yes, sir," Sam said, "Believe me, we do—we're living it."

"General," Jack said. "We had the same difficulty believing this when something similar happened in our reality—but, then, it was a little easier to suspend our disbelief because we had two Carters to deal with. Two. Together." 

"I can imagine how that must have been," Hammond said. "But without proof, Daniel's theory sounds equally convincing."

Jack beat his hands on the table as he decided to change tactics. "General Hammond, how well did you know . . . me?"

Hammond was taken aback by the question. "Well, Jack, after serving as your commanding officer for the past five years, I feel reasonably confident that I know you well. Well enough to count you as a friend."

"Then, general, do you honestly think that I—that the Jack you knew—would intentionally hurt _Daniel like that?"_

Hammond sat back in his chair and fiddled with a pen, setting it on the table only to slide it through his fingers, turn it, and slip it through again. "No, colonel, I don't believe you would. Not after the way you lost your wife. But, I would still like you to submit to a scan by Dr. Fraiser. You people have had your minds altered before this—even as recently as that Tyler incident Daniel referred to." 

"Yes, sir," Sam said.

"Understood, sir." 

"Then you'll both understand that until I'm satisfied you are who you say you are, I'll have to confine you two in holding rooms."

"Sir," Sam began, "If I may? I think I might be able to convince you that we are who we say we are without additional tests."

Jack's brow furrowed, but he said nothing. Instead, he waited for Sam to continue.

"And how can you do that, Major Carter?" 

"With these, sir." _God, please, Jack, play along, Sam thought as she pulled out the photographs she'd concealed within her notes. She began to lay them out slowly, one-by-one, on the table. The first picture was of the alternate Sam and Jack that was taken following her promotion to major, an engagement ring obvious on her hand._

In the next picture Sam placed on the table, the couple stood facing the camera, white flowers and greenery wrapped around a decorative arch behind them, and a tiered wedding cake to their right. Wearing full dress blues, Jack stood behind Sam, his arms wrapped around her holding her close, a joy-filled smile on his face. Sam's short blonde locks had been pinned up in small curls away from her face with tiny white flowers tucked within the curls. She wore a sleeveless white wedding dress and held a small piece of wedding cake pinched between her fingers, her nose crinkled up in laughter as the photo was snapped. 

The general seemed truly stunned by what he saw. He picked the photo up to stare at the happy couple. "Married?"

Jack didn't know where Sam had come up with these photos—hell, he was as shocked at the general—but, since the bomb had been dropped, he saw no choice but to play along. "Yes, sir. We are." _God, don't let him catch that I'm lying, he thought. He looked at Sam, but couldn't read her. She'd pulled inside herself to carry this off._

"But, regulations . . . you're not wearing rings . . ." Hammond's voice faded out.

"Not against regs in our reality," Jack answered. 

"As for rings, they would be hazardous off-world if we were ever captured by hostiles—those stay at home," Sam said.

Sam glanced to Jack to weigh his reactions before laying down the last photo. His lips were pinched tightly together into a thin line, the tension he felt obvious. However, his eyes reflected a softness that the rest of his face didn't. Sam could only assume that he was remembering the other Samantha who'd been married to a different Jack and who Sam had seen kiss _him goodbye since the alternate hadn't been able to say goodbye to her husband before his death in her reality._

Sam placed the last photo down and covered Jack's hand with hers. He turned his hand palm up to grasp her chilled fingers. In the photo, the couple shared a playful kiss by the cake; Sam's arms flung about his neck, her cake-covered fingers outstretched to keep from sullying his uniform, and his arms wrapped tightly about her waist as he lifted her from the ground. The photo captured them in motion with Sam's billowy skirt all a-blur. 

When Sam saw the photos this time, she smiled. It was hard not to when seeing two people so totally in love. Or, maybe after last night with Jack—_God, was that only last night? It suddenly seemed so long ago. _

Hammond brought her back to the present as he slid the photos back to her. "This evidence is hard to challenge, major."

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"General, if we aren't who we say we are, then explain these photos," Jack said.

After a moment, Hammond answered. "I can't. Major, why didn't you show these before now?"

"You saw Daniel. Would you have wanted us to show these to him?" she asked.

After thinking it through, Hammond said, "You're right, major. I concede your point." Hammond paused as he picked up the photos, his mouth grim. "After seeing these, I don't have any reason to submit you to further scans. I'll have the airman escort you two to a VIP room. The airmen will remain on guard outside until we can decide where to go from here. Dismissed." The general left the room, taking the photos with him.

An awkward silence settled around the two. Sam had no idea what to say to Jack nor could she begin to guess what he would say when he did speak. Finally, Jack stood up and stretched, still watching the doorway. "Well, that was . . . fun," he said.

"Sir, I—"

"Carter, since we're 'married,' shouldn't that be 'Jack?'" he asked.

"Then, that would make me 'Sam,' sir," Sam answered as Jack helped her out of the chair, pulling it back as she stood. "Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't see a choice—"

His voice dropped in volume when he cut her off, "Not here, Major." He nodded to the airman crossing the threshold into the room.

"Sir, ma'am, the general asked me to escort you to a VIP room. This way," the young man said. 

"Ladies and wives first, _Samantha," Jack said, gallantly extending his arm to allow her to precede him. She shot him a dirty look as she grabbed her notes and then exited the room, leaving him to follow._

Sam dropped her notes onto the table in the VIP room as the airman shut the door behind Jack. Without speaking, she went into the small half-bath and opened the faucets on the sink. She knew in their reality the VIP rooms were monitored, but she had no idea whether that held true here. In any event, the noise from the tap should mask their conversation if they spoke softly. 

She turned to face Jack, who leaned against the doorframe of the small enclosure. He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers before speaking in a hushed tone. "You want to tell me about back there?"

"I didn't see any other way and it convinced him we aren't of this multiverse, didn't it? "

"And the photos?"

"I found them in _her journal. I . . . she loved you—him—so much. I just couldn't leave them there to be destroyed. It just felt wrong. I know __they aren't us, colonel, but . . ." An errant tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. She brushed it away quickly and turned to the sink to splash water on her face. Jack handed her a towel._

"Thank you," she said.

"For what? The towel?"

"And for back there. With Daniel."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, but—"

"But this has all been a little overwhelming?" Jack asked.

"Yes, especially after the past few days," she said. "And, then Daniel." 

"I know."

"Jack, we're going to have to play this out . . . possibly for a while."

"I'm fine with that, major. Keeping up appearances with you won't be difficult."

"No, sir. But it will make it a lot harder on us when we get home."

Jack reached past her into the small bathroom to shut off the faucets. Taking the hand towel from her, he folded it and laid it across the basin's edge before turning to face her. He cupped a hand around her neck, his thumb absently stroking the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat. Sam felt her face flush under his warm caress, and she stared down at his chest, silently willing him to stop. Against her better judgment, her heart racing, she closed her eyes and relaxed into his touch, surrendering to the quivers racing through her body. 

Unable to resist her closeness, Jack leaned in to kiss her brow and then her cheek, nuzzling her face to urge her to tilt her face up to his. When she did, he kissed her mouth, one hand sliding to cradle her face while the other gently grasped her hand. He scarcely breathed as he tasted her sweetness again. After a moment, he ended the kiss and rested his head against hers.

"Sam, I'm not going to have any problems with playing this out with you," Jack whispered. "But, I may have a problem letting you go if we make it back home."

His words of warning resonated within Sam, a part of her beginning to dread the thought of going home and losing what they were allowing themselves. _But, this isn't where we belong, she thought. "I know, Jack," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "Got any favors you can call in?"_

He smiled and said, "You know, I'm going to have to go through my rolodex to see if I have any left. I've had to call in a few lately."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." 

Suddenly needing space, Sam brushed past him to return to the living area of the VIP room. She began to straighten the notes she'd discarded on the table, but then changed her mind and instead sat at the foot of the bed. 

To say she looked exhausted would be an understatement. Jack wasn't sure how she remained conscious. 

"I don't know about you, Sam, but I'm wiped—not much sleep last night," he paused to flash a brief smile at her. "And then all of this. Let's go to sleep."

"No arguments here, sir—Jack," she said. 

Sam watched him move through the room, turning off the lamps scattered throughout the room. A little off-balance as the painkiller began to take effect, Sam thought that the room seemed to wobble. Or maybe it was her head that was doing the wobbling. 

When Jack finished dimming the room, he sat next to her on the bed. "Need help with your boots?"

Sam nodded and slowly reclined, using her elbows to brace herself, until she was flat on the mattress, and pulled a foot up to the edge of the bed. Jack quickly unlaced the boot and removed it, and then they repeated the process. 

"You're good to go," Jack said. He left his boots on and moved to the other side of the bed, fluffing and stacking pillows so that he'd be nearly sitting upright instead of laying down. Settling, he held an arm out, indicating he wanted to hold her. 

Sam eased over and curled up next to him, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, her head on his chest. Yawning, she said, "Janet said I had a couple of hairline fractures, but that you did everything you could for my ribs and the muscle strain."

"Then why the painkiller?"

"I'm just really hurting. I guess from our landing at PL3-93X."

"Oh."

Jack shifted on the bed, careful not to jostle her too much, and then closed his eyes.

"You know what I don't get, Jack?"

"What's that?"

"In every alternate universe up until now, we've been together. Daniel had said that you and I were engaged in that first one. And, Samantha was married to you. The last one, too. Why not this one?"

"I don't know, major. But, you know, I see a pattern here?" He felt Sam shake her head. "In all these realities, either one or both of us are dead."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, it makes me wonder how much time we'll have together. Being with you is kinda starting to look dangerous." He chuckled softly, more at the universal quirkiness of it all than out of disrespect for the deaths within those alternate realities.

"Jack!"

"I'm kidding. You're right. We weren't together here, and we still died."

Sam was thoughtful for a bit. "But, you know what?" Her speech was soft and slow, beginning to slightly slur as her body succumbed to the medication.

"Hmm?"

"_We're still here. Whatever we've done until now has been right so far." _

Jack pressed a kiss into her hair. "Yes, it has."

"'Night, Jack," she mumbled, losing her battle with exhaustion and the painkiller.

Jack relaxed against the pillows and held her, listening to her breathe. It was a long while before he was finally able to fall asleep.

A light knock on the door woke Jack with a start. He scanned his surroundings, trying to place where he slept. In the dim light streaming from under the door, he recognized shapes within the room. Table. Chairs. Sam snuggled up next to him, her head on his chest, their legs entangled. 

As Jack eased from under her sleeping form, the knocking came again, this time harder and louder than before. He hurriedly yanked open the door before Sam was awakened. 

"Daniel?" he asked, his voice thick and groggy.

"I'm sorry. You were sleeping . . ."

"Glad to see you're still able to notice the obvious, Daniel." Jack rubbed a hand over his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Oh, um, five o'clock."

"In the morning?" _This better be good, Jack thought as he quickly calculated how little sleep he'd gotten. _

"Yeah. Can you . . . would—"

"Cup of coffee?"

"Yeah."

Jack cleared his throat and looked toward the bed. "Give me a minute," he said. Jack stepped back inside the room, and Daniel followed until he was half in and half out of the doorway, catching the door before it closed to keep it from slamming shut. Daniel watched Jack go to the bed and pull the bedspread from one side of the bed over a still sleeping Sam.

Knowing he had an audience, Jack leaned down to brush his lips against her cheek as he tucked the spread over her shoulders. "I'm getting some coffee—be back in a bit," he whispered.

"'Kay," she mumbled. Sam pulled an arm out from under the bedspread to touch his face before he left. "Jack?"

Jack lingered over her. "Yeah?" Instead of answering, Sam guided his face down to hers for a brief kiss before she let him go. 

"Go back to sleep, major. That's an order," he said before straightening and heading for the door.

Daniel was staring at his shoes, and looking very uncomfortable. Jack brushed past the younger man into the corridor, leaving Daniel to close the door softly behind them.  Silently, they headed toward the commissary.

They'd filled their mugs and sat at their usual table, all without conversation. Whatever Daniel wanted, he was reluctant to bring it up. Jack noticed that Daniel still wore the same khaki trousers and brown dress shirt from the day before; the shirt's sleeves rolled to the elbows and its matching tie long since discarded. The top button opened at his throat to reveal a white t-shirt. Meeting Daniel's red rimmed eyes, Jack noted the dark shadows smudged beneath. 

"So, Daniel," Jack said, trying to break the ice. "Did you get any sleep at all?" 

"Um, some. A little," Daniel said, tapping his thumb on his mug. "Not much, actually. Sleep's been hard these past few days," he finally admitted. "You?"

"A few hours. I'll be fine. Just a really, really, really long day yesterday."

"Yeah. For me too," Daniel said. He took a long draught of coffee. "Hammond showed me the . . . pictures of you and . . . Sam. Assuming they're legitimate—"

"They are," Jack lied.

"Then . . . my wife . . . "

"Died on PL3-93X."

"Yeah." 

Daniel took off his glasses and tossed them carelessly to the table. Rubbing at his tired eyes, he said, "I can't . . .I can't believe she's gone."

"I'm sorry, Daniel," Jack said. 

"So am I. It's just . . . God, this is hard. I feel like I just lost her all over again, but, then, there she is in your bed."

Jack spoke slowly, much in the way one would talk to a child, "She's not your wife, Daniel. I know this is hard, but she really isn't her."

"I'm trying to believe that, Jack, but she's exactly—"

"But, she's not. That Sam is _my_ wife," Jack said firmly. _At least while we're here, he thought. He sipped his coffee while he waited for Daniel to refocus and throw another question at him. His Daniel would usually change tack when he came up against a fact with which he had difficulty believing. Jack began a mental countdown . . . __4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . ._

"What happened to you on 93X?" Daniel asked.

Jack fought the urge to smile as this Daniel behaved true to form. "From what I can piece together, the same thing that happened to SG-1 here—but Sam and I were able to escape in time."

"Escape from what, though? We couldn't figure out what reduced you both to cinders, but left everything else intact."

Jack pulled a paper napkin out of the dispenser and began to fiddle with it, absently tearing off small pieces of it while he spoke. "After you and Teal'c went through the gate, the attack got worse. Stronger. We were going for the gate when I saw this huge . . . wave or flash—really no words to describe it. Anyway, I didn't think we were going to make it. I grabbed Sam and dove into the gate. We ended up back at the SGC—only it wasn't ours."

"Kind of like when you and she were bounced to Antarctica through the Beta Gate?"  
                "That happened here, too?" Jack said, surprised. He was amazed at the similarities of this reality. Some of the similarities anyway. "Yeah. Sam called it multi-something 'skipping.' Like skipping stones across a lake, only we skipped realities."

"Sounds like how she'd explain it," Daniel said.

"Anyway, we ended up at an SGC where the entire Cheyenne Mountain Complex was deserted—as well as Colorado Springs."

"Deserted?"

"Ghost town would be an extreme understatement. No people, no power to the facility, no emergency generators, no phones—"

"But that's impossible." 

"Will you stop saying that? It was possible, Daniel. We were there," Jack said, tired of Daniel's seeming inability to grasp that he and Sam _were telling the truth. Jack saw Daniel drop his eyes to his cup, and he felt like a heel—after all, Jack was sure if the realities had been reversed he'd probably be acting the same way. "I'm sorry, Daniel. That was out of line."_

"No, you're right. What you're saying is plausible, I suppose. Go on."

"Where was I?"

"Colorado Springs."

"Oh, yeah. I left Sam trying to finish building a naquadah reactor she found in her lab. We used that to power up the facility while we were stuck there. And I went into town to see w-what I could see. And the city was empty. Everything looked so normal—no car wrecks, no bodies. Everything was orderly. Cars were parked. Buildings still stood. But there was no life of any kind. Well, except for plant life. Reminded me of that British Airways commercial where the guy—"

"Is standing in the middle of the street yelling, 'Where is everybody?'" Daniel finished.

"Exactly, but without the fancy music."

"What about the rest of Colorado—the world for that matter?"

"I don't know. I didn't want to stay around to find out. Sam was injured. It just wasn't a top priority."

"I understand," Daniel said. "So, how did you get here?"

"Sam thought she could recreate the blast wave that skipped us the first time by building a second reactor and setting it to loop back on itself to blow. Add to that the reactor powering the facility and the mountain's self-destruct and—"

"And, boom. But, instead of skipping back to your reality, you ended up here."

"Yep. That's the long and short of it," Jack said standing. He refilled his mug and returned to the table. They sat quietly drinking their coffee as the commissary began to fill up with personnel, many of whom openly gaped at Jack's presence.

"So, Daniel. Yesterday was the memorial?" Jack asked.

"Uhm. Yeah. In the morning. It was rough."

"Well, they're seldom easy."

"No, they're not. But trying to explain to Meredith—"

"Who?" Jack asked.

"Oh. Yeah. Not in your—never mind," Daniel said, cutting himself off as he focused on someone behind Jack. A moment later, Jack felt a familiar hand on his shoulder as Sam sat beside him.

"Hey," Jack said softly. "You didn't have to get up. You still look tired." 

"Couldn't go back to sleep after you left. I'll catch up tonight," she said, noticing Daniel's effort to come across disinterested. 

Daniel stood, cup in hand. "Coffee?" he asked Sam.

She tried a slight smile to alleviate his discomfort. "Yeah, that'd be nice. Two—"

"Sugars and a shot of milk," he finished. Offering a self-conscious but sad, half-grin, he said, "I know."

Daniel walked over to the coffee machine. _This is so hard, he thought__. She's just like my Sam. He glanced over to the table and saw them sitting close; Sam leaning in to hear Jack speak, touching him, her hand on his sleeve. Intimate. Whether Daniel wanted to admit it or not, she really wasn't his wife. And, he didn't need those photos to tell him that._

After Daniel left the table, Sam took Jack's cup away for a sip. "Yuck, black."

"Yeah, wakes you up though," Jack said, taking back his cup to drink from it. 

Sam watched Daniel as he filled the mugs, his shoulders uncharacteristically slumped. "He looks so sad." 

"And the two of us together probably makes it worse."

"I wish there was something we could do to help him," she said, unconsciously laying her hand on Jack's sleeve. "If he's anything like our Daniel, he's really hurting right now. I just wish we could make it stop."

"I know, Carter," Jack said, "but, how? You're not his Sam."

"I know. We don't belong here and it would be wrong to mislead them more than we already have."

"Any ideas floating in that brilliant head of yours as to how we're going to get back home?" 

"No, sir. Not yet. It's not like I can blow up the facility again," she said, offering a half-smile at the idea.

"Nope, I think that option's out of the question."

"What's out of the question?" Daniel asked, handing Sam her coffee.

Just then, the klaxons sounded. 

"Now what?" Daniel asked, his tone more of aggravation than curiosity. Nearly out of habit, all three left the commissary and head for the control room.

Teal'c and General Hammond met them as they entered the control room. Teal'c nodded at Jack and Sam, briefly acknowledging their presence, before turning his attention to the gate room.

"Sergeant, are any teams due back?" asked Hammond

"No sir," Sergeant Davis answered.

"Close the iris."

"Closing iris sir….Sir, we're receiving a radio signal, it's SG-11."

"Can you make out what they're saying?"

"Hang on, I'm trying to clear it up." Sergeant Davis turned a few control knobs. Seconds later, a voice came over the radio.

"This is Colonel Davenport. We are pinned down by Jaffa forces. Major Andrews is injured; the rest of the team is okay. We're near the gate, but can't get past the Jaffa to dial home. Requesting back up."

"Cut off from the gate?" Jack repeated. "How the hell did they dial out?"

Daniel looked at Jack oddly before answering, "The RDD, I would suppose."

"RDD?" Sam asked.

"Remote Dialing Device. It can initiate a dial-out from about 5 kilometers out for instances just like this. You—well, Sam designed it," Daniel said.

Hammond ignored the brief conversation and moved to the microphone. "Colonel, this is General Hammond. We will round up a team and contact you in 30 minutes. Can you hold off the Jaffa until that time?"

"Roger that, General. We are in a secure position with plenty of ammunition. We should be fine for the next half hour or so."

"Good. We are deactivating the wormhole. We will re-open and send a team in 30 minutes. Good luck, colonel." 

As the wormhole shut down, General Hammond turned to Sergeant Davis. "Sergeant, how many teams are available at the moment."

"Sir, SG-2, 4, 6 and 9 are off world, the rest are off base. SG-12 was scheduled to be on-call, but they contracted a virus on P3X-898. Only Captain Jamison from SG-12 is available. He doesn't seem to have been affected by whatever knocked out the rest of his team."

"Do you mean to tell me that we have no teams available to go and back up SG-11? That's not supposed to happen."

"Sorry, sir, but that's what it looks like."

"Ahem…ah, General," Daniel said, "Teal'c and I are available."

"Dr. Jackson, you and Teal'c have experienced a terrible loss. I'm not sure that sending the two of you on a mission at this time is such a good idea."

"But, General, we're all you've got. Well, us and Captain Jamison."

"Well," General Hammond wavered.

"Sir." Jack stepped forward. "I'd like to offer my services in recovering SG-11."

"As do I, sir," Sam said.

"Colonel O'Neill, need I remind you that I'm not even sure who you are. As for you, Major Carter, you're not fit for duty. Dr. Frasier has informed me that your ribs are fractured. Or have you forgotten that."

"No, sir," Carter answered, "but, they're only a couple of small hairline fractures. I really want to help, sir."

"General," Jack said, continuing to push his case. "I agree that Major Carter is in no shape for a mission, as much as she would like to go." He looked apologetically towards Sam "However, I am an Air Force colonel, maybe not your colonel, but a colonel nonetheless. And I am fully capable to accompany Daniel, Teal'c and . . ." Jack looked to Daniel for confirmation of the name, "Captain Jamison on this mission."

"And you two don't have a problem with this?" Hammond asked Daniel and Teal'c.

"Sir, he's so much like Jack, it's scary," Daniel said, "I have no problem with this." 

"Nor I, General Hammond. And, as this is the only reality of consequence, I feel no hesitation to take him with us if it will ensure the safe return of SG-11."

"'Only reality of consequence?' That sounds _hauntingly familiar," Jack repeated, cocking his head slightly. "And, General, as Daniel said, we're all you've got."_

"Point taken," the general conceded with a sigh. "Very well. Colonel O'Neill, you will accompany Dr. Jackson, Teal'c, and Captain Jamison to rescue SG-11. Teal'c, you're in charge."

"But…" Jack started.

"No buts, Colonel, that's the way it goes. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, sir." Jack gave in. "Thank you, sir."

"Teal'c, assemble your team and be in the gate room in 20 minutes."

"Yes, sir, General Hammond," Teal'c said. General Hammond headed for his office.

Jack looked at the other two team members. "So…" 

Teal'c, his demeanor stern, raised his eyebrow at Jack. "I suggest that we get Captain Jamison and gear up." 

"Lead the way," Jack waved his arm with a flourish and followed the Jaffa from the room. "Hey, will we have one of those neat RD . . . A thingies?" 

"RDD, Jack," Daniel corrected.

"Whatever," Jack said.

Sam paired with Daniel as she followed the others out. "Daniel, did Sam keep her plans for the RDDs?"

"Yes, I'm sure she did. They'd be in her lab," Daniel said. "Why?"

"Just curious. We, um, don't have those in our . . . back home. I wanted to see how she solved—"

Daniel stopped walking as he finished her statement. "You wanted to see how she did it?" 

"If that's okay with you."

"Yeah. That's fine. I haven't been in there since . . ." Daniel's voice cracked slightly.

"I understand. I'll leave things as I find them, I promise." 

"Sure, Sam." He reached out as if to touch her, then, suddenly realizing who she was, he pulled back with a slightly wistful look on his face. "I'm sorry." 

"No. Don't be," Sam said, understanding the difficulty Daniel was having separating her from his wife. With one last look, he turned and headed for the locker room behind Teal'c, leaving Jack alone in the corridor with Sam.

"You'll be careful?" Sam asked.

"What's to be careful of? A few Jaffa, a few grenades. No problem," Jack joked. He turned serious, though, when he saw her frowning. "We'll be fine. You see if you can find out about that damned mirror, too."

"Yes, sir," Sam said. As she started for the elevators and her lab, Jack reached for her arm, holding her back.

"Sam?" Jack stared into her eyes, worry and concern filling them. Wordlessly, he pulled her into an easy embrace. "Daniel will be fine and so will we. Just find us a way home, major. That's an order."

After seeing the guys off, Sam wandered towards her counterpart's lab, anxious to see if she could find the plans for the RDD. _At least we might be able to bring back something useful from this mission, she thought to herself__ ._

Sam opened the door to the lab, turning on the lights as she entered. She immediately noted differences. This lab was definitely more feminine than hers. A teddy bear sat on a file cabinet; the words 'I love you' on it's heart-shaped tummy. Next to it was wedding picture of her and Daniel. Sam picked up the picture, slowly running her finger over the faces of the happy couple smiling back at her. _They look happy. So very much in love. _

Returning the picture to its home, Sam turned to the desk and the laptop sitting on it. She opened the computer and turned it on. The plans most likely would be here_. _

While waiting for the computer to boot up, she let her eyes wander over the desk. There was a picture of her and Daniel on a beach. Daniel had grabbed her and swung her around, the photograph capturing their laughter as they frolicked next to the water. Next to that photograph, was a picture of Daniel asleep on a couch, glasses askew, one arm flung above his head while the other rested across a infant in a pink snuggly asleep on his chest. The two of them looked very content and relaxed. 

The computer beeped drawing Sam's attention away from the picture. Glancing at the screen, Sam saw a prompt for a password. _Hmm.__ What would she use as a password? After a moment's thought, she typed in 'Schroedinger' and hit the enter key. 'Access Denied' popped up. __Maybe something more technical.__ After all, Sam was a theoretical astrophysicist. How about 'Occam's Razor'? _

Sam continued to try various words, 'Daniel,' 'Cassandra,' 'Tau'ri.' Still, access was denied. _What could it be? She glanced around the room, looking for some clue as to what Sam might use as a password._

"I thought I might find you here." A voice broke into her musings. "Did you forget about breakfast?"

Sam looked up to see the diminutive doctor standing before her. "Oh, Janet. I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I came down to see if I could find plans for the RDD and completely lost track of time."

"That's okay. I figured as much. You always did have a habit of becoming totally involved in something you were working on to the exclusion of all else."

"I guess that's something I have in common with this Sam—I mean had in common," she corrected.

"Right. About that. Why did you let me go on yesterday about me and Jack? Why didn't you tell me about all of this?" A slight look of betrayal crossed her face.

"Janet, I couldn't tell you. Not until we talked to General Hammond. We had no idea what we'd been dropped into. I know this must be awkward for you."

Janet sighed. "You have no idea."

"I have some idea, though, I'm still not sure General Hammond believes us."

"Well, you have to admit this is pretty hard to swallow. The general says you claim to be from an alternate reality. How is that possible?"

"Several years ago in our reality, we gated to a planet where Daniel discovered a mirror. When he touched it, he was transported to an alternate reality, one where the Goa'uld had attacked Earth and were in the process of taking over Cheyenne mountain. He came back to our reality with the coordinates to where the attack originated and we were able to use the information to prevent the attack on our world. Since then, we've experienced three other alternate realities, including this one.

"And in your reality, you and Jack are married?"

"Yes. General Hammond showed you the pictures?"

"He did. But then, the Gould manufactured an entire mock-up of the SGC, why couldn't they fake a few pictures?"

"But the DNA from the ashes on PL3-93X? You did the analyses yourself and you concluded that it was Carter and O'Neill."

"I did. But the Goa'uld have done some pretty surprising things. I wouldn't put it past them to have duplicated your DNA to make us think that you were dead."

"What would be the point in that?" Sam's frustration was evident. "Why would they make you think that we were dead only to send us back?"

"You have a point. It just seems so unlikely. You look so much like our Sam. You even act like her."

"That's because I am her. The differences between us lie in the choices we made and the choices made by others around us. When an alternate Sam came through to our reality, we had the same difficulty accepting that this was real. But, we had two Sams there. It was obvious that one of us didn't belong."

"Two Sams? That must have been interesting."

"It was. Especially when the entropic cascade failure set in."

"Entropic cascade failure?"

"Yes. When more than one of the same person from two different realities exists in the same reality, the increased entropy created by both causes a temporal distortion on the cellular level." Warming to her subject, Sam continued. "Because I was alive and in close proximity to the alternate Samantha, she began experiencing temporal distortion within 24 hours. If she had stayed in our reality for longer than 48 hours she would have died." 

"It's a lot to take in. How do I know that the Goa'uld haven't messed with your minds. Planted false memories. After all they've done it before."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Janet, what kind of proof do you want? What more can I do to prove to you that I'm not your Sam?" She stared at the doctor, racking her brain for some kind of evidence that would convince Janet that she wasn't the Sam from this reality. "You're Sam's doctor, right? Any scars or injuries she had that that we can compare to ones I have?"

"I don't know. Tell me some injuries that you've had."

"When I was 16, I fell off my bike and broke my arm." Sam responded.

"Right or left?"

"Right."

"Same thing happened to our Sam." Janet confirmed.

"Well, there's the scar on my stomach from the knife wound I received when the SGC was infected with the virus from the Land of Light."

"Our Sam had that."

"There's the protein marker left over from being host to Jolinar." Sam searched through her mind for injuries that might be unique to her reality.

"Our Sam too."

"There must be something." Exasperated, Sam looked at the doctor. "Okay, your turn. What's something I haven't mentioned that happened to your Sam?"

"There's the cesarean scar." Janet said.

"The what?"

"The cesarean scar. From when you delivered Meredith."

"A baby?" Sam said somewhat in awe. She'd never considered a having a child while she was in the Air Force. 

"Yes. She was premature. She had to be delivered by emergency C-section. It was touch and go there for a bit, but she pulled through. She's a fighter like her mother." 

"Janet, I don't have a cesarean scar, no stretch marks—I've never even been pregnant. I wasn't even sure if it was possible after Jolinar."

Janet looked at her skeptically. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Uh, sure, go ahead." Sam raised the hem of her shirt and unzipped her pants to expose her lower abdomen. "No scar."

Janet stood there, staring at Sam's flat stomach. She was right, there was no cesarean scar. A look of defeat clouded her eyes. "You really aren't our Sam, are you?"

"No, I'm not." Sam put her clothing back in order. Glancing at the picture of Daniel with the baby, she reached over and picked it up. "So . . . this is Meredith, huh?"

"Yes." Janet stared at the photograph in Sam's hands. "She's a beautiful little girl. She looks a lot like you, but she's definitely a daddy's girl. She and Daniel are thick as thieves."

"How old is she now?" A wistful note crept into Sam's voice.

"Almost two. This has been real hard on her, you know? Trying to figure out where her mommy is." Janet's voice shook slightly. "It's been real hard on all of us. I guess that's why I challenged your multiverse theory. I wanted this to be a trick. That all we needed to do was figure out what the Goa'uld did to you and fix it. Then, Daniel and Meredith would have their Sam back and I would have. . ." Her voice trailed off.

"Jack." Sam stared at the doctor, sympathy evident on her face. "I'm sorry, Janet. I know this is as difficult for you as it is for Daniel."

"The worse part is that right before he left to go to PL3-93X we argued. I had planned to smooth things over when he got back, but . . ." Unable to finish her statement, she turned away, tears filling her eyes.

Circling the desk, Sam put her arm around Janet and pulled her close. Resting her head on Sam's shoulder, Janet sobbed freely. Eventually, the tears died down. She took a deep, shuddering breath before speaking.. "I had just accepted the fact that he was gone and then you and Jack came through the gate and I . . . I'm sorry." 

"No problem. That's what friends are for. I may not be your Sam, but in my reality you and I are best friends."

Janet smiled slightly. "Tell you what. Why don't we go have that breakfast? We can talk some more and, to tell the truth, I could use a friend right about now."

"Sounds good to me. Let's go." 

As Sam moved through the commissary line she felt like all eyes in the room were on her. "Janet, is it my imagination or is everyone staring at me."

"Yesterday you were dead and today, as far as most of them know, you're back. Staring is to be expected, don't you think?"

"I guess so. It just feels weird."

Picking up their trays, they moved to a table and sat down. Sam watched as Janet opened a box of Fruit Loops, emptied them into a bowl, and poured milk over them.

Looking up Janet noticed Sam staring. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing really. Fruit Loops doesn't seem like the kind of breakfast a doctor would eat." 

"No, I guess not. But they were Jack's favorite. He always had them around and I kind of developed a taste for them."

"How long had you and Jack been . . . together?"

"We'd only been seeing each other seriously for about 6 months."

"How'd it happen?"

"Well, after Sha're died, he was pretty torn up. I ..."

"Wait a minute. Jack was married to Sha're?"

"No, but he got close to her during the year he spent on Abydos."

"Jack spent a year on Abydos? Why?"

"When he went to Abydos on that first mission, he became attached to a young boy named Ska'ara. After Charlie's death and Sara's suicide, he saw no reason to return to Earth with Daniel and the rest of the team. Daniel simply said that the gate had been blown up and that Jack had died in the process. Kawalsky and the others backed Daniel up. If the Goa'uld hadn't come through the gate to the SGC a year later, Jack would still be there. He become somewhat of a father figure to Ska'ara and he and Sha're were friends." 

Catching the surprise on Sam's face, she paused. "Let me guess, this didn't happen in your reality."

"No, well, not like that," Sam said, shaking her head. "Charlie died, but Sara is still alive. She and Jack divorced sometime after the original Abydos mission. Sha're was given to Daniel as a gift on that mission. Daniel married her and stayed behind on Abydos. 

When the Goa'uld came through our gate a year later, General Hammond called Jack out of retirement. I was brought in from the Pentagon, and we traveled to Abydos to bring Daniel back. Daniel had found a cartouche of gate addresses and was showing it to us when Apophis's first prime, Teal'c, came through the Abydos gate and took Sha're and Ska'ara captive. Daniel came back with us and joined SG-1 so that he could look for Sha're," Sam said. She sipped her coffee while waiting on Janet to respond. 

Janet began to detail the differences. "In this reality, from what I've been told about it, after Daniel returned from that first mission and realized he couldn't publish his findings, he returned to academia. When Apophis came through the gate, General Hammond contacted Daniel who, after admitting that Jack wasn't really dead, suggested bringing him back to lead the rescue mission of the Air Force officer who was taken. Everything else happened pretty much the same as in yours. When Sha're and Ska'ara were taken, Jack was really broken up. When he came back to Earth, he was assigned as leader of SG-1. After that, he was pretty much intent on finding Sha're and Ska'ara—reuniting the two with Kasuf as he'd promised. But, that didn't happen."

"And the two of you got together?" Sam asked.

"Yes, although it wasn't intentional. I worked to keep him from spiraling into a depression. He always seemed to enjoy being around Cassie, so I invited him for dinner a couple of times. He began spending more time at the house, and eventually we began to evolve into something more than friends. We'd only been serious for about six months. No one but Sam, Daniel and Teal'c knew about it." Her eyes became teary again.

"I'm sorry Janet," Sam said. She reached across the table and squeezed the other woman's hand gently. "This must be really hard for you. How's Cassie taking it?"

"Not too well, actually. Not only did she lose Jack, whom she'd grown extremely close to, she lost you, too. I mean, the other you. The two of you always had a very special relationship." Janet looked down at the table, her voice cracking.

"Yes. We do in my reality too. She's a special kid." 

They ate quietly for a bit. Finally, Sam asked the question uppermost in her mind.

"Janet, I'm curious. How did Daniel and Sam get together?" she asked.

"Apparently, they clicked right away. Both were fascinated by the scientific aspects of the Stargate and the possibility of knowledge that could be gained, much to Jack's chagrin."

"Let me guess, this Jack didn't like scientists either?" Sam grinned, remembering her CO's reaction at their first meeting.

"Not at all. And it didn't help that he had two on his team who were 'way smarter' than him," Janet confirmed, laughing slightly at the memory of Jack's very vocal complaints about scientists. "Eventually, Sam and Daniel realized that they had more in common than just a love of knowledge. They spent more and more time together. When we thought Daniel had died on P3X-866, you—Sam realized how deep her feelings were for him. When hypnotized to regain information about his disappearance, she realized that she loved him. After that, the two were inseparable. When Sam and Jack disappeared after that, Daniel was sick with worry. He drove General Hammond nuts with his efforts to find her and was who noticed the tremors the Antarctica gate caused here when Sam tried to dial home. They married after she'd recovered from hypothermia."

"And Meredith?" Sam asked.

"She was pregnant when Jolinar took over her body, although none of us knew it at the time. When Jolinar died, she saved not only Sam, but the baby as well. However, we think the naquadah in her blood was what caused the premature labor"

"But the baby was okay, right? No birth defects or other medical problems?" Sam questioned.

"She' fine. She's a perfectly healthy two year old," Janet said, "although, right now, she's misses her mother."  
                "Poor kid. Who takes care of her while Daniel's on duty?"

"Sam's mom's watches her. She moved in with them after the baby was born and Sam returned to active duty."

"Did you say mom?" As she spoke, Sam looked up sharply. "She's alive?"

"Yes."

"My mother died when I was 15," Sam said in a small quiet voice. "She was in a accident. My dad was supposed to pick her up. He was late. She took a taxi. It was hit and she died. It took me years to forgive my dad."

It was Janet's turn to reach over and take Sam's hand. "From what Sam told me, the accident happened, but her mother survived. However, that was the catalyst for her parents' divorce."

"My mom's alive," Sam whispered. "God, I'd love to see her." 

"I don't know if that would be a good idea. Her daughter's dead," Janet said.

Sam sighed. Her mother was alive and it was impossible for Sam to see her. "You're right. I can't see anyone outside of the facility." 

"I'm sure that Daniel could show you more pictures of the baby and some of your mother."

Just then, klaxons sounded, startling both women. A moment later, a voice came over the com system. 

"Medical team to the gate room."     

Janet jumped up from the table and headed towards the door, followed closely by Sam. 

"No teams due back. It's probably SG-1 coming back from the rescue mission," Janet said over her shoulder as they hurried towards the gate room. "I'd lay odds that Daniel's managed to injure himself."

"Well, it's nice to know some things never change." Sam nearly jogged to keep up with the doctor, who'd made it to the elevator and slapped the call button. All they could do now was wait for the car.

Sam rushed through the door to the gate room before the returning teams had stepped through. She beat Janet into the gate room since the doctor had needed to stop by the infirmary for latex gloves, a med kit, and several medical assistants on her way. As was usually the case, security forces with guns were at the ready, waiting for any threat that might come through the gate instead of the team members. Curious as to the delay, she twisted to look up at the control room's window at Sgt. Davis. 

"Don't know, Major," Davis said into the microphone. "They radioed they were coming back with casualties."

Sam turned to stare at the luminous event horizon, ready to run up the ramp and provide assistance when the teams returned. She glanced over her shoulder as someone approached from behind.

"Well, where are they?" Janet asked, her breathing a little labored from her jog to the gate room. Two medics followed her in, choosing to stand behind them to wait.

"Davis said they radioed they were coming back. Something must have happened," Sam said frowning. 

No sooner had she said the words than Captain Jamison stumbled out of the Stargate, her arm in a makeshift sling. Just behind Jamison came Daniel half-carrying Major Andrews. Following them were several more of SG-11's members in varying states of exhaustion and injury. Janet and her medical staff rushed to attend the injured. Sam made her way up the gate to help Daniel with Andrews as the wormhole disconnected.

"Where are Jack and Teal'c?" she asked, slipping her arm around Andrews' waist while he slung his free arm around her shoulders. 

"They're—Sir," Andrews acknowledged General Hammond as he entered the gate room.

"Son, you okay?" Hammond asked.

"Will be, sir." 

Sam and Daniel passed off Andrews to medics who, in turn, evacuated him and the rest out of the gate room with Janet barking orders as she triaged the patients. Once the gate room cleared, Hammond turned to Daniel. 

"Where exactly are the others?"

"They're on their way. Seems they found an old friend," Daniel answered. Seeing questioning look on Sam's face, he explained. "Jack saw someone being held prisoner by the Jaffa. He and Teal'c are staging a rescue. Davenport's with them."

Hammond's mouth tensed and he took a deep, cleansing breath. "They do realize we're short on off-world capable teams? I don't have the manpower for another rescue. This could be suicide."

"There wasn't a debate about doing this, General. It was Jacob," Daniel said.

"Dad? Is he okay?"

"From what I could see, yeah, he looked okay. Jack seemed to think it'd be a piece of cake—his words, by the way."

"I certainly hope so, Dr. Jackson. At least now we know why the Tok'ra couldn't contact him earlier this week. Debriefing's scheduled for an hour after they get back," Hammond said. He gave one last look at the gate before shaking his head and exiting the room.

Sam and Daniel walked through the corridor in silence, a guarded space between them. They reached the elevator bay and Sam stopped, unsure of where they were headed. Seeing similar confusion on Daniel's face, she lightly touched his arm.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked. Daniel looked at her and relaxed a bit before nodding. He punched the call button for the elevator "You look tired, Daniel."

"I _am tired. This week's catching up to me," Daniel admitted as he leaned against the concrete wall while they waited for the car. The doors opened and they stepped inside. Daniel selected level 18 for his lab and the doors slid shut. _

Even though she was unsure about how she could possibly help him following his loss, Sam still offered. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"No. No, I don't. You . . . this . . . It's just too soon," he said. "Give me some time, Sam." His blue eyes locked with hers and she saw just how deep his pain went. The doors reopened as they reached his level, but his eyes never left hers. Unable to resist, Daniel trailed a finger longingly across her cheek before leaving her alone in the elevator.

Jack glanced over his shoulder and got the nod from Davenport he was hoping for. He chose his path carefully; one wrong step and he'd have a small army of Jaffa swarming him. Not a pretty picture. He made his way through the underbrush to the edge of a clearing backed by a cliff. Sheltered by the rock overhang and surrounding bushes, Jack saw Jacob, bound and gagged, leaning wearily against the stone. The Jaffa guards gathered together at the other side of the clearing as if waiting to be ringed aboard a ship. They didn't appear too worried about their prisoner's ability to escape.

This was good. _We can work with this, Jack thought. He inched as close as he dared without losing protection of the foliage. There was nothing to provide cover between him and Jacob. Jack picked up a small pebble and chucked it at the bound man. It landed nearby with only the faintest of sounds._

Jacob didn't move.

Jack tried again, this time with a slightly larger pebble and, hopefully, better aim. It bounced off of the cliff above Jacob causing a small shower of debris. Jack cringed and ducked, not wanting the Jaffa to become suspicious.

Jacob's eyes flashed as Selmac assumed control. Her host needed the extra surge of energy and clarity that she provided. She cautiously appraised the area, quickly sighting O'Neill hidden within the underbrush. Sensing that Jacob had regained a higher level of alertness, Selmac surrendered control to her host, knowing that Jacob could more quickly process the hand signals the Tau'ri favored for silent communication.

Jack raised his hands pressing his wrists together. Jacob responded by subtly shifting his position and raising his hands enabling Jack to view his binding. He could see Jack grimace as he realized the bindings were forged from a naquadah alloy. What Jack couldn't know was that these bindings needed a special key to be able to remove them. Jacob saw Jack signal that he would return and then disappear from his line of vision.

Retracing his steps, Jack silently made his way to the recon site to meet Davenport and Teal'c. Within a few minutes, the three rejoined and Jack automatically assumed control of the operation.

"Okay, here's the deal," he began. "Teal'c, he's got these shiny handcuffs—"

"The Gant'niknel," Teal'c said.

"O-kay," Jack drawled, dragging out the 'o.' "How do we get them off? He has a set on his wrists and another on his ankles."

"With the key, O'Neill."

"But we don't have the key—who would?"

"The first prime."

"Didn't see him hanging around, although it looked like the guards were about ready to ring up to somewhere."

Davenport looked from the Jaffa to the other colonel. "Can't we just pick General Carter up and make a run for it?"

Jack looked to Teal'c for the answer.

"We would still need the key," Teal'c said.

"It didn't look like we have much time to hunt for one, buddy."

"The first prime is most likely on the ship," Teal'c said.

"Yeah, well, I guessed that, Teal'c. Can we take Jacob with us and worry about the key later?"

"Yes, the Gant'niknel should not explode when transported through the Stargate, but—"

"Wait, wait. Explode?" Davenport asked.

"They are naquadah enhanced and designed to cause significant damage when removed without the key."

"Can't Carter figure out a way to get them off?" Jack asked.

"I do not know, O'Neill. The Major Carter I knew could. But, I do not know your Major Carter's capabilities."

Jack rolled his eyes. This alternative reality crap was beginning to wear thin. "Let's not argue _Sam_antics, Teal'c—we need to make a decision. Grab Jacob and run, or find the key while trying to protect Jacob and hope like hell we can get back through the gate." 

"I vote grab him and go," Davenport interjected.

"Teal'c?"

"If Major Carter cannot—"

"Yeah, we got that. Okay, okay, okay. Let me think." Jack closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. He absently rubbed his head with the palms of his hands while he ran through several game plans in his mind. When he'd decided on the only course of action he could see working, Jack exhaled and looked at the other two men.

"Okay, Davenport, cover Teal'c while he gets Jacob back to the gate," Jack ordered.

"What are you going to do, Jack?" Davenport asked.

"I'm going to get on that ship and look for the key. Teal'c, you'll have to tell me what to look for."

"O'Neill, it will be very dangerous to retrieve the key," Teal'c warned. "I should be the one to go after it."

"I know it's dangerous, but you said it yourself, Teal'c. This is the only reality of consequence. I'm not even supposed to exist here, so I'm sort of expendable," Jack said trying to joke his way through the heroics.

Teal'c raised his eyebrow at Jack, but didn't argue further. 

"Jack, I won't even pretend to know what's going on, but no one's expendable, including you. Why don't we just forget the key and let the science geeks back home work it out," Davenport suggested.

"Because if they don't get it right, we'll have done just as well to have left Jacob with the Goa'uld because he's as good as dead anyway." Jack mispronounced Goa'uld _goold__,_ like a curse.

"I agree with O'Neill," Teal'c said. "The naquadah alloy used for the Gant'niknel is highly unstable. If accidentally triggered, it would do much damage to the SGC and those who endeavor to free Jacob Carter."

"So, it's settled" Jack said firmly, "I'm going after the key."

Sam leaned against the elevator's wall and sank to the floor, tears she couldn't control threatening to overflow. Swiping at her eyes, she fought the urge to bang her head back against the metal wall. This was so unfair. Her friend was hurting, she was the cause, and there was nothing she could do to fix the problem. His deep love for his Sam was clear as was his suffering every time he saw her.

Daniel had never been one to hide his emotions. Oh, sure, he'd try. He could deflect with the best of him. Jack had taught him well. But, his face—his eyes—always gave him away. Whether it was a mischievous glint when he was planning a prank or that haunted look he could get when considering the ramifications of their actions, what he truly felt had always been clear to her. It would take more than time for Daniel to deal with the loss of his wife. It would take her getting the hell out of this reality.

Sam felt the elevator begin to move and realized she had to shake this off. Her concern shouldn't be for this Daniel—he wasn't the friend and confidant she'd known for the past five years. This Daniel was what her friend could have been had his choices been different. She had to let go of the survivor's guilt she'd been feeling since she'd learned of the death of his wife—of her—and focus on the more important task; how to get she and Jack home. 

Standing as the elevator doors opened, Sam brushed off the seat of her pants and prepared to plaster a smile on her face. Thankfully, there was only Sergeant Davis waiting to enter the elevator. Sam realized she'd ridden back down to level 28, the control room level. She punched level 19 for her lab and waited for the return trip.

"Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c, they're not back yet?" she asked the sergeant.

"No, ma'am. No contact yet."

"Oh," she feigned indifference, not wanting to show her real concern that Jack was off playing hero again. 

"I'm sure they'll return with your da—General Carter soon."

"I'm sure."

The panel lit up at 19 and the doors slid open again. With a halfhearted smile, she left for the comfort of her lab.

"Major Carter?" Davis called out, his voice cracking in a slightly high pitch.

"Sergeant?"

"It's good to have you back, even if you're not . . . well," his voice trailed off unsure of how to word his welcome.

"I understand, Sergeant. Thanks."

"Psst, buddy," Jack whispered to a lone Jaffa soldier passing through the thick woods near the clearing where Jacob was being held. Surprised, the soldier looked up just as Jack zatted him. He dropped to the ground fast and hard, moaning in discomfort. Jack zatted him a second time and the man stilled. Jack didn't relish killing, but he knew if he didn't the Jaffa would screw this rescue up by alerting the others, and he didn't want to take that chance. 

He pulled the Jaffa by the boots deeper into the thicket and then jogged back to retrieve the staff weapon that the man had dropped when he'd been hit. Jack looked around to ensure solitude and then began stripping the dead man of his body armor. The only way he could see getting on that ship to retrieve the key for Jacob's restraints was to disguise himself as a Jaffa. He just hoped he could get away with it. 

After a difficult battle to remove the man's boots, the last of the man's 'wardrobe' was easily removed and Jack quickly shed his own clothes, squelching a shiver as he donned the man's still warm battle gear. Once dressed, he balled up his BDU's and shoved them inside his utility vest, velcroing his boots to the vest by way of the shoelaces. He also crammed the GDO and his new toy, the small remote dialing device, under the breastplate of the armor. Without those, he wouldn't get home. 

Zatting the dead and naked man for a third time to disintegrate the body, Jack grabbed his gear and fished through a couple of the pockets on his vest. He pulled out some necessary items he'd need to create a diversion for Teal'c and Davenport. When he finished, he hid the vest and other items within the shelter of a low-standing bush. He clicked the radio twice to let Teal'c know he was moving into position before shutting it off and concealing it under his breastplate. 

He had about seven minutes to get into position so that Davenport and Teal'c could grab Jacob and run. It all depended on Jack drawing away the attention of the Jaffa. He hoped he'd be able to pull this off.

Daniel looked around the room that was quickly becoming his haven, his lab. The ancient objects and clutter of translations and alien texts seemed comforting, reassuring. Artifacts always gave Daniel the feeling of a greatness beyond this moment in time. In the grand scheme of things, the death of his wife was minor. Simply a blip in the long, intricate history of time.

At least that was what Daniel tried to convince himself, that life carried on and his grief would fade. He would raise their daughter alone, a prospect he'd never considered, even with their dangerous line of work. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, blowing the air out slowly and seeking to calm his racing heart. He shouldn't have touched her.

It was difficult enough to see her, hear that familiar voice. God, she even smelled like his wife, fresh and warm and spicy. What on earth possessed him to touch her again before leaving her alone? He didn't have the right. She wasn't his. This Sam never had been. 

Daniel searched his desk, noisily shuffling papers in the process, in a hunt for the thick brag book he kept of his family. Smiling when he found it, he slowly turned through the album's pages, reassured that his life with Sam hadn't been a figment of his imagination, a fleeting fantasy or interrupted dream. The proof was here, and in their daughter, and his memories. He spent a long time losing himself in his past, remembering the stories behind the pictures. 

Sam's offer to talk looked better as he held a snippet of his life with his wife in his hands. Returning the album to the desk, Daniel left the sanctity of his lab and headed for Sam's. He knew that's where she'd be. Her lab was as much a haven for her as his was for him. Maybe she could help, he thought. Just discussing the differences between their lives would serve to convince his heart what his mind was all too certain of—his wife was never coming back.

Crouching near the area that appeared to be the ring site, Jack watched the Jaffa continue to mill about and he began to wonder what was up. They seemed to be waiting for something. Very unusual to see them just . . . hanging around. The little hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle in warning. 

Determined to ignore the feeling of foreboding, he set his jaw, grimly glanced across the clearing to check that Jacob's last location, and was reassured to see the older man in the same sheltered spot. Teal'c slipped into place causing the foliage at the edge of the clearing to swish, not enough to draw attention, but enough that Jack noticed. Davenport's position was further back to provide any necessary cover fire. 

Jack sank deeper into the undergrowth to better mask his position. He took out a small roll of tape and a grenade and got to work. Stripping off a small piece of tape, he loosely secured the release on a grenade and then pulled the pin. The tape would provide a small delay from when he threw the grenade until it went off, providing Jack with ample time to hightail it out of the vicinity. When he finished, he checked the time—right on schedule. He picked the grenade up, stepped closer to the clearing's perimeter, and threw it as hard and as far as he could. He then began to circle toward the trail leading to the clearing.

The resulting explosion was more than enough to draw the attention of the Jaffa warriors. Forgetting about their prisoner, the entire guard barreled through the forest toward the explosion. Jack waited for a beat then stepped into the clearing, activating the ring transporter "call button" on his wrist cuffs. He turned back in time to see Teal'c toss Jacob over his shoulder before the rings stacked around him and the scenery changed to the interior of a Goa'uld transport ship. 

Encircled by the soft glow of her desk lamp, Sam sat at her desk with the lights dimmed. The green-shaded lamp provided the only true illumination, various pieces of equipment blinked and flashed on the lab's perimeter. She'd been searching the files on the laptop's hard drive in an effort to locate the plans for the RDD. If she found them, she'd at least have something to take back home with them besides memories. 

Tired, frustrated from her exhaustive search, Sam glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time. What was taking them so long? She had half a mind to beg Hammond to let her and Daniel go rescue the rescuers.

"Which would be totally useless to do," Sam said out loud. 

"What would be totally useless?"

Startled, she jumped at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Daniel? Geez," Sam complained. She sucked in a deep, cleansing breath in an effort to slow her rapidly beating heart. She didn't need that adrenaline boost. She was on edge enough as it was.

"Sorry," he said with an apologetic smile. "I thought you might like some lunch." He held up the black plastic tray in his hands that had two mugs, coffee by the scent of it, a couple of plastic-wrapped sandwiches and oranges. 

"No, I'm sorry. I'm just on edge. Thanks." She cleared off an area on the desk for the tray and Daniel sat it down one handed, simultaneously reaching behind him to pull up the spare chair. 

"They'll make it back," he said.

"You don't know that, Daniel. We didn't make it back for you."

"_You_ aren't them. That's becoming clearer every moment I spend with you." Daniel handed her a sandwich.

"And you think that'll make a difference?"

"It did this week." He took a long swallow of coffee before continuing. Carefully returning the mug back to the tray, he watched her unwrap the sandwich and self-consciously take a bite. "I'm sorry about earlier."

Sam finished chewing before answering. "No, I am. I shouldn't have pushed. I don't have the right."

"But you are a compassionate person, Sam. You wouldn't be you if you didn't reach out." After the words left his mouth, Daniel laughed. "God, this is so . . . you aren't you. I mean, I don't _know_ you, you know?" He paused before continuing, "Hi, I'm Daniel Jackson, and you're a lot like my wife."

Sam smiled at his effort. She knew this had to be incredibly rough on him. They sat together in a less awkward silence while they ate. Finally, Sam's curiosity got the best of her. After his reaction to her this morning, she couldn't figure out why he would choose to spend time with her. 

"Daniel, why did you come to see me? I mean, thanks for the lunch and all, but—"

"But, was there something more?" he finished, again a wry smile hinting at his lips. "I-I just wanted to talk to you for a little while. Get to know _you_. I thought it might help separate the two of you."

"Okay, shoot. I'm an open book. Sort of," she teased, and then took another bite of her sandwich. Sam watched Daniel shift in his seat before he leaned forward, elbows propped on the desk.

"Okay," he began. "Why did you want us to believe you and Jack were married?"

Sam nearly choked on her food at the unexpected question. "We _are_ married," she lied.

"You call each other 'colonel' and 'major.' I have a hard time believing that a married couple would do that, regardless of their place in a military line of command."

"Old habits die hard, Daniel," Sam said, picking up her mug to avoid eye contact.

"And, you have those pictures, which I have to admit are quite convincing, but," Daniel reached across the desk and took her left hand into his right, gently feeling the base of her third finger. His eyes shifted from her hand to her face, forcing her to make eye contact with him. "No ring imprint, Sam. I'll buy you not wearing your wedding band when you're off world, but you still should have an impression or a tan line from it. My wife never took hers off when she was home. So, why?" 

Sam withdrew her hand and looked away from his intense stare. She knew there was no way to continue to lie her way out of this and she pondered the question for a bit before choosing her words. "Between us?"

"Whatever you tell me won't leave this room, I promise you that. I just need to know."

"You scared the hell out of me when we came through the gate," she answered honestly. "That kiss—well, we certainly knew we weren't home. But we didn't know what we were walking into or who, well, we knew the who but we didn't know how different the who in this reality would be from those in ours. And everyone was so convinced we were the Carter and O'Neill from this reality. Using the photos was a convenient way to prove we were who we said we are."

"About the photos . . ."

Sam fiddled with her mug before answering. "They're from the multiverse where we were first skipped. I found the pictures hidden in that Carter's journal. I couldn't let the photos be destroyed with the SGC when I recreated the conditions that brought us there. It seemed wrong. I didn't want _them_ to be forgotten."

"You kept the pictures because of them, or because of you?" 

When Sam didn't respond, Daniel pushed harder. "You're in love with him, aren't you?" he asked, the question intoned more like a statement of fact.

The pain in her eyes and her telltale blush provided him the answer. "And, it's against regulations in your world, too, isn't it, Sam? Does he feel the same way?"

"I don't— I mean, I know he cares, but how much? The colonel is very good at hiding his true emotions."

"Oh, I don't know about that. He had no trouble showing his emotions to me when it came to you. Incredibly protective—more than one would expect if you were just a subordinate or only a friend to him."

"Really?" Sam warmed to the thought of Jack's emotions running deeper than just a physical attraction or the want of someone off-limits. He had alluded to something more that last night they spent together in the other reality, but they'd both backed away from making any promises, neither wanting to hurt the other if a future together never materialized.

"Really."

Sam sat quietly, still unsure of asking Daniel more about his wife. She figured she'd just let him direct the conversation. God knows, she had no idea what was dangerous ground.

"How long have you—"

"Have I what, Daniel?"

"Have you known you felt this way about him?"

Sam considered the question, taking her time to pinpoint her feelings toward Jack. It was something she hadn't really thought about until now. "I don't know exactly. I think I was drawn to the colonel from the very beginning. I mean, he's. . . wow. But, then he opened his mouth."

Daniel snickered at that. He'd remembered when his Sam met Jack for the first time, too. She'd just gone through the gate for the first time to Abydos and Jack popped off some stupid comment about how cold she appeared. First and last time Jack ever joked about that, too, given Sam's response.

"And, then he said something about not wanting me on his team. I immediately opened _my_ mouth and made some horrible ultra-feminist statement about gonads—"

"You didn't."

"Oh, yeah. I did. And he just smiled and said _he_ didn't have a problem with me being a woman—he _liked_ women. It was scientists he didn't like."

"Sounds like Jack," Daniel agreed.

"Anyway, we just kind of got comfortable with each other. He flirted with me, I think at first it was just to see me blush, and I flirted back. It was fun. But, then with everything we've gone through together, well. I think I knew that I—," Sam paused, hesitant to put her feelings in words. "I knew my feelings for him had changed when I thought we'd lost him on Edora." 

Daniel nodded. The fire-rain incident had happened here, too. Sam worked endlessly to bring her commanding officer home. Daniel nearly had to kidnap her to get her home to see the baby. As much as Sam loved being a mom, she felt driven to bring Jack home—she said it had to do with never leaving anyone behind. She felt guilty that she and Teal'c had made it through the gate, even though staying behind at their location would have meant certain death. 

"And, in your reality, you and I . . . we never?"

"Oh, no. No. Well, not that you're not . . . you were married—"

"I was married? To who, Janet?"

"No, Sha're."

"Ska'ara's sister?"

"Yeah. She was given to you on that first trip to Abydos. You stayed behind after you and Jack had killed Ra because you said you had an opportunity of a lifetime to study an ancient living culture. And because you'd fallen for Sha're rather quickly."

"She was pretty, but she was presented to Jack when we went to Abydos that first time, not that he knew it."

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, he was led to a tent with Sha're inside. A gift of sorts. Jack had sense enough not to . . . he had no idea that she was supposed to be taken as his wife. He handled things . . . well, let's just say with my help we were able to convince Kasuf that Sha're was very nice, but that Jack couldn't take a wife because he was in mourning—Sara had committed suicide not long after Charlie died. After Jack decided to stay there, he became close friends with Sha're, but he never—he was afraid to open up to someone again. He didn't want history to repeat itself."

Sam took in all that Daniel said about the alternate O'Neill. He'd had it so much tougher than Jack. It was amazing how simple, changed choices created such different outcomes. There wasn't much that could be said concerning O'Neill's fate. Sam was saddened by his destiny.

"There was a time, not long after I first met our Daniel, that I thought . . . if you hadn't been married to Sha're . . . that we'd . . . I mean, we had so much in common. But, that passed and we were—are more like siblings than anything."

"Ouch, siblings," Daniel said, grimacing. "Well, I'll count myself luckier than your Daniel. You definitely didn't love me like a brother, Sam." He smiled briefly as he spoke, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I'm sorry she's gone. I can tell you loved her a great deal."

"I always will."

An easy silence settled between the two of them again as they finished the simple lunch. Daniel stood to collect the tray when the klaxons in the facility sounded. Hammond's voice echoed through the corridors as he called for the two of them to report to the control room immediately.

"It sounds like they're back," Daniel said, dropping the tray onto the desk. A moment later, Hammond called for a medical team to report to the gate room. Daniel watched Sam's face go pale as she quickly rose from her chair and grimace at the discomfort she obviously felt from the sudden movement. The aches she suffered didn't keep her from rushing around the desk and for the door. 

He stopped her with his touch, grabbing her arm as she pushed past him. "It's okay, Sam. Sending a medical team to the gate room is standard protocol here. It doesn't mean anyone's injured." Daniel resisted the urge to pull her into an embrace as she stared up at him, processing what he'd said. 

After searching his eyes, Sam knew that he was right, but his words didn't calm her fear that something had happened. "I hope you're right, Daniel," she said before leaving the room. 

Daniel followed her out of the lab toward the elevator_. I hope I'm right, too, Sam_, he thought. _For your sake_.

Sam entered the gate room, Daniel on her heels. The General was already there, along with a half dozen SFs, watching to see who came through the event horizon.

"Any idea who it is sir?" Sam asked, breathlessly

"We received an IDC code from SG1," General Hammond said to her just as Colonel Davenport stumbled through the gate, closely followed by Teal'c carrying Jacob fireman-style across his shoulder. As Teal'c struggled down the ramp with his load, the event horizon dissipated behind him.

Sam stared at the Stargate, unable to grasp that Jack had not returned with them. She was brought back to reality by Hammond's voice. "Teal'c, where is Colonel O'Neill?"

Gently lowering his burden and helping him to stand, Teal'c replied, "Colonel O'Neill ordered Colonel Davenport and me to return with Jacob Carter while he attempted to retrieve the key needed to release the restraints."

"Jack said to give him two hours and to have Major Carter work on a way to get around the booby trap in the shackles, just in case," Davenport added.

Jacob, barely able to stand, rested heavily against Teal'c. General Hammond turned to him. "Jacob, are you okay?"

"Nothing that Selmac can't take care of, given a little time." His voice was raspy and showed signs of exhaustion.

"I'd like to have Dr. Frasier take a look at you, just to make sure." 

Hammond motioned to two medics. They lifted Jacob to the gurney, since he was unable to walk due to the Gant'niknel. As medics eased him down, he saw Sam standing off to the side.

"Hey Sammie."

"Dad." Sam stumbled over the word. Obviously Jacob didn't know what had happened to his Sam.

General Hammond broke in. "Jacob, you and Major Carter can talk later; right now we need to get you checked out in the infirmary."

Jacob closed his eyes, exhaustion overtaking him, as his head hit the pillow. "No problem George, it's not as if I'm going anywhere." He held up his wrists, indicating the Gant'niknel armbands he wore.

"Major Carter will look at those as soon as we get the go ahead from Dr. Frasier." As the medics wheeled Jacob out of the gate room, the general turned to Sam. "We were unable to get in touch with Jacob to let him know about the death of his daughter," he explained. "The Tok'ra only indicated that he'd been on a mission."

"So I gathered," she responded. "So…who's going to tell him?'

"I'll do it," Daniel offered. "She was my wife."

"That's okay Dr. Jackson. I know this been doubly hard for you," the General replied. "Jacob and I have been friends a long time. I'll tell him."

"Well, if you insist." Daniel was secretly relieved that he wouldn't have to explain things to Jacob. He was still trying to come to grips with his own feelings. He wasn't sure if he could've handled going through it all again.

General Hammond turned back to Sam. "Why don't you head down to your lab? Start trying to figure out the handcuffs."

"Teal'c, go with her. Tell her everything you know about this device. When you're done, I want you to head to the infirmary for your post mission physical."

"Colonel Davenport, walk with me to the infirmary. You can fill me in on the rest of mission on the way. We'll have a full debriefing in three hours. Hopefully by then, Colonel O'Neill will be back with the key and we'll have Jacob free of the restraints." With that, he left the gate room with Colonel Davenport.

Sam turned to stare the gate; as if just by doing so she could will it to open and spit Jack out. Daniel walked up and gently laid his hand on her shoulder.

"He'll be okay Sam," he said softly trying to reassure her. "He's one of the best."

"Indeed." Teal'c added. "Your Colonel O'Neill is a formidable warrior. I have no doubt that he will be successful."

Sam sighed. "Sometimes being the best isn't enough. You both should know that."

All three stood there in silence, staring at the gate, thinking about what had happened to the Sam and Jack from this universe.

"Sometimes it's not." Daniel's voice broke the silence. "But this time it will be. There's no other acceptable option."

Taking a deep breath, Sam looked to Daniel, a fake smile pasted on her face. "You're right. This time it has to be." Turning, she asked, "So, Teal'c, what can you tell me about these handcuffs?"

Dr. Frasier had finished Jacob's exam and was heading to her office when General Hammond and Colonel Davenport entered the infirmary. She stopped in front of the general, certain he was there to see Jacob.

"How's the patient, Doctor?" he asked.

"A few cuts and bruises. Suffering from exhaustion. Nothing that his symbiote can't heal in time." 

"That's good to hear," the general said. "Is he up for company?"

Knowing General Hammond needed to inform Jacob about his daughter's death, Janet's first instinct was to ask the general to put it off. But Jacob would likely find out the truth once Sam attempted to remove the handcuffs, so she conceded.

"For just a few moments. Remember, he's very tired. He needs to rest and let Selmac work on healing his injuries."

"I understand, Doctor," the general replied. "This is not something I'm looking forward too, but the sooner he knows the better. In the meantime, why don't you go ahead and perform Colonel Davenport's post mission physical."

"Yes sir." Janet turned toward Davenport. "Colonel, if you'll follow me?"

As Dr. Frasier and Colonel Davenport left, General Hammond went to Jacob's bed. His friend lay there, eyes closed, breathing deeply, apparently allowing Selmac to heal him. The general hated to disturb him, but it had to be done. Jacob needed to know about his daughter's death. 

Taking a deep breath, he said quietly, "Jacob."

Opening his eyes, Jacob squinted in the light. "George. Hi. So, did Dr. Frasier clear me?"

"Yes, she did. She said you needed rest, though, to let Selmac heal you."

"That's one of the advantages of sharing your body with a symbiote," he countered. "I'm going to rest for a bit. Have Sam call when she's ready to work on these restraints. Someone will have to wheel me down to her lab, but if anyone can figure them out, I know my Sam can." His pride in his daughter was clear.

"Yes…Major Carter is certainly more than capable," Hammond said, an obvious catch in his voice.

"What is it, George? Is there something you're not telling me?"

Clearing his throat, Hammond said, "Jacob, I'm afraid I have some bad . . . While you were on your mission for the Tok'ra, Sam was involved in an off-world incident."

"Okay?" Jacob questioned. "Come on, George. You've known me long enough to know you don't have to handle me with kid gloves. Did something happen to her? 'Cause, she looked fine, a little tired, but—"

"That's just it, Jacob. The woman you spoke with—that's not your Sam." 

A look of confusion descended over Jacob's features. "What do you mean, she's not my Sam. Of course, that's my daughter. I saw her with my own eyes." Jacob insisted.

"Jacob, listen to me." General Hammond cut off his friend's protest. "The woman you spoke with is from an alternate universe, a multiple reality if you will. So is Colonel O'Neill."

"That's impossible," Jacob argued. "What kind of bad joke are you trying to pull on me, George?"

"This is no joke."

"And my daughter? Where is she?"

Hammond stared at his friend, working on the best words to tell him. Finally, he decided to just tell him straight out. There was no other way. 

"Jacob…she's dead," Hammond paused to let the statement sink in. "She and Colonel O'Neill were killed by an energy wave on PL3-937. Dr. Frasier DNA-tested the remains we found. There's no denying that the Air Force has lost two fine officers . . . and I've lost two dear friends."

"And the woman I saw, the Jack who's risking his life to . . . to—"

"This Major Carter came through the Stargate, along with her Colonel O'Neill, claiming to be from an alternate universe. According to Major Carter's explanation, the same energy wave that killed your daughter caused their wormhole to jump realities. Ultimately, they ended up here instead in to their universe."

"And you believed them. Of all the harebrained ideas…this has to be . . ." Jacob's speech faded as quickly as the burst of hope he'd briefly felt.

"At first we didn't believe them, but all the evidence proves that what's she says is true. I'm sorry, Jacob."

Jacob dropped his head back to his pillow and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they glowed briefly. Selmac assumed control. "General Hammond, thank you for telling us. This must be a difficult time for you, as well. Jacob wishes me to ask that you allow us time to grieve privately." Selmac, too, felt the loss of Jacob's daughter. She'd become quite fond of Samantha.

"Of course, Selmac. I understand. I'll leave you alone. Let Doctor Frasier know if you need anything."

"Thank you, General Hammond. Jacob _will_ be okay. He just needs time." With that, Selmac's eyes closed and she allowed Jacob to draw on her strength.

Sam sat hunched over the lab table, furiously scribbling on a notepad while glancing at the open laptop. She had entered the information Teal'c provided about the Gant'niknel and, for the past few hours, she had worked furiously to figure out a way to remove them from Jacob without setting off an explosion. So far, the answers she kept getting weren't reassuring.

Hearing a knock on her door, she looked up to see the man she was working to save being wheeled into the lab by a medic.

_He looks tired, she thought, __and very sad. He must know. "Thank you. I'll take it from here. _

"Yes ma'am." With a brief nod, the airman left the lab. 

"How are you?" Sam asked hesitantly. She worried when Selmac answered.

"Physically, we are fine, Major Carter. However, I don't think it will surprise you that Jacob is having trouble accepting your death. While he works through his grief, I will remain in control. When he is ready to speak, he will."

"I understand." She pursed her lips together briefly before continuing. "This must be very difficult to believe when I am right in front of you.

"While, I admit, your presence makes her death harder to comprehend, if you were not here, we would have a very low likelihood of removing these restraints without the key." Selmac nodded toward the cuffs encircling Jacob's wrists and ankles. "For this reason, we are grateful that you are here."

"Speaking of which, may I take a look?" 

"Yes. We are most anxious to be rid of these bonds."

"I imagine so." Sam walked over to the wheelchair. Kneeling down in front of it, she reached out and lifted Jacob's arms, so she could see the details of the device. Giving an apologetic smile, Sam examined the cuffs over carefully, pushing, prodding, turning them left, and then right. Nothing was overlooked as she gave it her full concentration.

"It's what I thought," she said more to herself than to Selmac. 

Rising, she went to the laptop and quickly scrolled through her notes. She was completely engrossed in her work, blocking out everything else from her mind. 

While she worked silently, Jacob watched her every movement while communicating with his symbiote.

_It's hard to believe that she's not my Sam, Selmac. She's so much like her. Even her ability to block out everything except what she's working on._

_They are very similar, Selmac responded__. But there are small differences. Watch how she moves, her gestures. Also, your Sam was a bit softer, a little quicker to show her emotions. The differences are subtle, but they are there if you look for them._

Jacob continued to observe Sam moving about the lab and mumbling to herself as she worked to solve the riddle of the restraints. Now, the subtle differences Selmac pointed out began to manifest. 

Finally, he spoke to his symbiote. _You're right. He sighed. __She is different. She's really not my Sam, is she?_

_No, my friend.__ She is not. But perhaps by talking with her, you will be better able to accept the death of your daughter. Selmac was full of sympathy for her partner._

_Perhaps.__ But, not yet. Just give me a few more minutes, okay?_

_Whenever you're ready, my friend.__ Until then, continue to draw on my strength._

This wasn't the first time that Jacob was grateful to be sharing his body with the symbiote. Probably wouldn't be the last, either. Without Selmac's help, he didn't know how he would have handled the loss of his daughter. 

Sam looked up at the man sitting across the room. "I think I figured out how to get you out of those cuffs."

"Are you sure?" Selmac asked.

"It's a risk of course, but based on my calculations it may work."

Suddenly, Selmac's eyes closed. When they opened again they glowed briefly, and then Jacob spoke. "I knew you could do it."

"Da…I mean, sir?" Sam stumbled over the words.

"Hi, Sam." He smiled slightly, although his eyes were still sad.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. At least I will be."

"I'm so sorry about your daughter." She knelt down in front of him, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

"There was always a chance that I would lose her on a mission. It's a dangerous job we do. People die. I've always pushed the possibility of losing you—her—out of my mind. Still, knowing it could happen and accepting it are two very different things."

"I know," Sam responded. "It's never easy, is it?"

"No."

The two stared at each other for a time in a silent memorial for his daughter. Jacob broke the silence. He would mourn later. "So…you think you can get these things off of me?" He held up his wrists.

"I think so. Maybe."

"Maybe?" 

"I'd rather wait for Jack. There's always the risk that I could blow us both up."

"It's your call," Jacob said. "I'm not going anywhere for a while."

Sam smiled at his attempt at levity.

"So, Sam, tell me about you."

"What do you want to know?" Standing, she walked back over to the table and sat on a stool.

"George says you're married in your…" he searched his mind for the right term. "…reality, was it?"

"Multiverse, actually. Yes, Jack and I are married." Sam had come this far with the lie, she saw no reason to drop the story yet. Inexplicably, Sam felt that she'd been right to tell Daniel. Keeping up pretenses with the others, however, served to delineate she and Jack from the two who rightly deserved this reality. 

"And, not Daniel?"

"No. Where I come from, Daniel and I are just good friends."

"He's a good man, Sam."

"I know. They both are." Which was why Sam chose to share her secret with Daniel. He didn't deserve to be hurt further. Had things been different . . . 

"Different choices were presented to us," she said when Jacob hadn't pressed for more information. "When I met Daniel in my reality, he was married to and very much in love with Sha're."

"I can't imagine you with Jack."

"I can't imagine me without him." 

"Oh, I bet your mother was proud," Jacob said quietly.

Looking away, Sam said softly, "She's dead."

"Sam, I'm sorry. When?" 

"A long time ago. I was 15." Sam's voice trembled as she recalled the memory. "My dad was supposed to pick her up from the airport. He was late. She took a taxi and there was an accident. She didn't make it."

"I remember that. It was touch and go with your mom for a while. She recovered, but we didn't. You could say the accident was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. A lot of things went wrong with us. Still, we managed to stay friends over the years. And, of course, we're crazy about Meredith. You do know who Meredith is, don't you?"

"Yes. I wish I could meet her . . . and Mom. It's going to be so hard on Meredith growing up without a mother."

"Your mom's good with her. She'll be okay." All of a sudden, realization dawned on him. "Oh God, Sam, your mom must be devastated. As soon as I get out of here, I need to see her."

The phone rang and Sam grabbed it. As she spoke, she looked at her watch and her shoulders slumped. Hanging up, she looked at Jacob.

"That was Sergeant Davis. It's been three hours. General Hammond wants to go ahead with the debriefing without Jack."

                "Come here." Jacob felt an urge to comfort this woman who looked so much like the daughter he had lost. Sam walked over to Jacob. Although he was limited by the restraints, he reached up and squeezed her hand. 

"If your Jack is anything like the Jack O'Neill I knew, he's a first rate soldier. Don't worry about him. He'll be okay."

"I hope so," Sam sighed. She allowed herself a brief moment to draw comfort from her father's contact before letting go of his hand. Squaring her shoulders, she moved to the back of his wheelchair. "We better get going. Don't want to keep the general waiting." With that, she pushed the wheelchair out the door and headed for the elevator. 

"Jack!" Sam called out in her dream. Suddenly waking and instantly alert, she lay frozen in bed, her eyes blinking as rapidly as her heart pounded, but she could see nothing except a shaft of light spilling in from under the door. After a minute, her eyes adjusted and she could see the silhouettes of the room's furnishings.

She had finally fitfully dozed off after taking a sleeping pill Janet forced on her. And Jack still hadn't returned even though it was hours past Teal'c and Jacob's return. He should have been here long ago. Sam clung to the hope he'd make it back, but the more time that elapsed, the more that hope slipped away.

Following a short rap, the door cracked open and Daniel poked his head in. "Sam? Are you still awake?"

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, knees drawn up to her chest, and she tugged the covers up to her bare shoulders. She'd been provided with a fresh uniform and a t-shirt to sleep in, but after several nights of sleeping in her clothing, Sam preferred the feel of fresh sheets against her skin and chose to sleep in her bra and panties. In retrospect, it was probably not a good choice. 

"Yeah, Daniel. I am now."

"Can I, uh . . ."

"Come on in. Any word?"

Daniel stepped into the darkened room, letting the door close softly with a thump. Hands in his pockets, he walked deeper into the VIP room and saw her, small and vulnerable, huddled under the covers on the bed. Her eyes were smudged with sleep and her hair stood on end in places; a testament to her restlessness. 

"Uhm, no. I'm sorry. Not yet." 

She closed her eyes and inhaled again—her way of internalizing her emotions. She'd finally gotten the hang of not showing her fear and grief that had become all too familiar in her work. That first year in the SGC, that had been a bitch. Looking back, she felt like she cried at the drop of a hat at the stressful, unimaginable situations they'd encountered. But now, she was older, wiser. Now, she cared too much and learned how to show too little.

"Sam? Are you alright?"

"I will be when we find out what's happened. Is Hammond going to send in a team?"

"No, well, not until morning at the earliest. He's tried to contact the Tok'ra to see if they could supply a key to getting your—Jacob out of the restraints. We should hear back from them soon."

"That's good. About Jacob, I mean." 

Scared and still woozy from the sleep aid, Sam frowned as she rested her head on her sheet-covered knees. The inside of her lip began to sting and she realized that she bitten it in her struggle to stop the threatening tears of worry that burned her eyes. Despite her best efforts, her firm control over her feelings unraveled, the emotional roller coaster ride of the past few days taking its toll.

"Was there something specific you wanted, Daniel?" she finally asked.

"Just to check on you. I was worried. What can I say—old habits die hard," he said softly, sitting down next to her on the bed. "He'll be okay, Sam."

"God, I hope so, Daniel," she whispered, desperate to stay in control. "I hope so."

Daniel saw her shoulders begin to shake as she started to weep. "Oh, God, Sam . . . don't. I hate it when you cry." She giggled slightly at his words since he'd never seen _her cry, but she couldn't stop the tears. _

"Come here," Daniel said. 

Sam leaned into his open arms and cried; the stress of the week, of facing this reality, and the real possibility of losing Jack, all catching up to her. Daniel held her tightly, stroking her arms and back with soft fingers, rocking with her slightly as one would a small child. Removing her arm closest to him from under the sheets, Sam looped it under his arm, hugging it to her, clutching at his shoulder and burying her face in the crook of his neck. As her tears began to subside, she relaxed into his embrace. "I can't lose him, Daniel. We've only just—"

"Sam. One, that's not an option. And, two, no matter what, you'll be okay," Daniel whispered into her hair, resting his face against her head. His warm breath ruffled her hair as he softly spoke. "You're the strongest person I've ever known. You'll be okay."

Sam tilted up to look at him, his profile dark against the dimness of the room. She could see how a part of her could be attracted to the sensitive man; he wore compassion like others wore arrogance. This Daniel possessed an inner strength and quiet passion under the scientist's façade. And, for a moment, she envied the other Sam who'd shared her life with him. 

As if he sensed her thoughts, Daniel turned his head down toward her. Sam's breath caught in her throat as their faces hovered close together and she had a fleeting thought he was about to kiss her. 

Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead and hugged her even closer as he surrendered to his own grief. Holding her and needing her so much, yet, knowing she wasn't his, it was a sweet torture to hold a carbon copy of his wife. Hot tears of grief Daniel had choked back for days rolled down his cheeks as he held her to him. Together, they comforted each other for vastly different reasons, each knowing why, but neither willing to let go. 

After a while, Daniel felt her go limp within his arms and heard her breathing even out as the sleep aid given by Janet finally kicked in. He shifted on the bed until he could lean back against the pillows and then cradled her head against his chest. Tenderly, he pulled up the sheets higher around her, covering the familiar bare skin he no longer had the right to see. 

He shouldn't stay. Hell, he shouldn't have checked on her in the first place. But, now he couldn't leave. He wanted to be with her when they found out news about Jack.

Until then, he'd close his eyes and imagine he was home, holding his wife in their bed one last time. 

Jack regained consciousness lying on the floor of the ship. His head throbbed. His teeth throbbed. Hell, even his hair throbbed. He stripped off the metallic Jaffa helmet and threw it across the tilted room. Daylight streamed through a gaping hole in the hull. Groaning, he rubbed his face and head while his brain did a quick check of the state of the remainder of his body. He couldn't believe he'd survived another crash into a planet. 

_I'm getting too old for this, he thought as he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, retrieving the staff weapon that had come to rest nearby. He didn't know if anyone else on board had made it, and he didn't care to find out. He had what he'd come for and he was ready to get the hell off this ship and make it back to the gate. _

He surveyed the damage to the hold in which he'd taken cover after damaging the control crystals to keep the ship in orbit around the planet. He hadn't planned on the ship losing the ability to stay in orbit, however. He just wanted to be able to ring back down to the planet, not go traipsing across the universe masquerading as a Jaffa who'd just offed his first prime.

Damage to the cargo hold was minimal. Large rectangular transport crates wrenched from their moorings lay strewn about. He'd been hidden behind a stack when they hit. He supposed the tumbled pile was what kept him from being located—if indeed there were survivors. He didn't know how long they'd been down or he'd been unconscious. He just hoped he wasn't too late and that Sam hadn't tried to remove the restraints without the key, after Teal'c's warning of their destructive capabilities.

Negotiating the crates, he made his way to the gash in the hull. It was wide enough to fit through, he thought, but it was just out of reach. The staff weapon went through the space first. Then, Jack dragged a crate under the hole and used it to launch himself through the sheared metal, cutting his hands in the process. 

Great. Just great. Now, he'd have to see Attila the Fraiser again. Her bedside manner when they'd arrived at the alternate SGC left a lot to be desired. He could only hope his absence had improved her disposition, because his hands hurt like hell and he really didn't want her to stitch them up with the attitude she'd had before. And his head. He didn't doubt he had a concussion. God, just what he needed, to have his head x-rayed. 

Jack interrupted his internal dialogue long enough to scan the area. It was clear. No troops running to assist those in the wreckage. That was a good thing. No way in hell to figure out where he was on this planet either. That royally sucked. 

Sliding down the outer hull to the ground, Jack took cover in the thick underbrush. As soon as he was hidden from sight, he tore off a strip of cloth from the . . . skirt of the uniform and tightly wound it around his left hand. Securing the ends as best he could, he repeated the process with his right hand, gritting his teeth to block out the pain. God, it was getting warm out here, he thought, swiping his brow with his forearm. When he withdrew his arm, it too was smeared with blood. _Shit. _

Jack gingerly touched his scalp finding a small but profusely bleeding laceration. Scalp wounds bleed the worst. He pressed the back of his hand to the cut—probably caused by that damned metal headgear they like to wear—using the backside of the bandage to hold pressure to the wound. 

Sitting still for a minute to refocus on his situation, Jack decided he needed to pinpoint his location before he wasted time and energy walking in circles. Not to mention the very real possibility of walking into other Jaffa. 

The remote dialing device. What was it Daniel had said? That the RDD could activate the gate from a distance of about five kilometers? _Cool. Jack fished out the device and the radio from within the breastplate. He hoped they both still worked. He turned on his radio before activating the RDD and waited for a full minute for the gate to connect before trying the radio. Since he hadn't sent the IDC code, the iris should remain shut, effectively protecting Earth against any Jaffa who might try to travel through the open wormhole._

"SGC, this is O'Neill, over." He released the button on the radio and waited. 

"Colonel O'Neill, we read you loud and clear," a static-laced voice said.

Jack closed his eyes and whispered "Thank you" to whatever power that had allowed him to crash within a five kilometer radius of the gate. "I've just survived a transport ship crashing into the planet and have no idea where I am in proximity to the gate other than I'm close enough to use this remote device. It is unknown, I repeat, unknown as to whether any hostiles survived with me, over."

"Understood, Colonel. Will send a UAV shortly. Should be able to point you in the right direction. Take cover and keep the frequency open. We'll contact you when we launch, over."

"Wait . . . S-Siler?"

"Sir?"

"Tell Carter I got the key. Do not, I repeat, do not attempt to remove Jacob Carter's restraints."

"Will do. Over and out."

Jack tucked the radio and the RDD under his breastplate before picking up the staff weapon and plunging deeper within the thicket. The crash site was still in sight, but he hoped they couldn't see him, if there were any 'theys' to hide from. Hunching down close to the ground, Jack went on alert and waited. 

The telephone on the nightstand trilled, waking Daniel with a start. He reached out in the dark to snag the receiver. "Yeah," he mumbled. 

"Dr. Jackson?" It was Siler's voice. 

"Yeah, Siler, What?" He rubbed at his eyes under his glasses as he listened.

"Is Major Carter there?"

"Sleeping. She's sleeping," Daniel became instantly alert, "you've heard from O'Neill?" 

"Yes, sir. We've had contact—General Hammond left orders to contact the major when—"

"I'll be right there," he said softly. Daniel gently eased Sam off of his chest and onto a pillow beside him. Sam sighed in her sleep, but didn't rouse, instead curling up on her side. Whatever Janet had given her had done the trick. 

The sheets had wound their way down nearly to her waist and Daniel could see the fading bruises on her back above her bra strap. He tugged the sheets up around her bare shoulders before leaving her and heading for the control room. 

He figured he'd wait to wake her until he knew more, or he'd let Jack wake her himself. Daniel knew she'd probably prefer the latter anyway. He pushed the call button on the elevator and waited. For her sake, he hoped that Jack was alright.

Jack heard the radio crackle to life. It was about damn time. Twenty minutes seemed like a lifetime when waiting for a rescue. He'd finally stopped the cut on his head from bleeding, but his head still throbbed so hard his teeth hurt. He just hoped he could make it back safely to the gate.

"Jack?"

"Daniel?"

"Yeah, Jack. It's me. You okay?"

"I'll live. Just get me the hell outta here, will ya?"

"Yeah. We're launching the UAV now. Shouldn't take long, but we need to get some idea as to which direction to head." 

Jack surveyed the surroundings for identifiable sites from the air. "It seems to be midday. The sun's directly overhead and the troop transport is burning—you might be able to see the smoke."

"Okay, that's good. Anything else?"

"God, Daniel! This place all looks the same—trees, grass, rocks. Lost of rocks," Jack said. "You'd love it here."

"Yeah, I'm sure I would, although I didn't see many rocks when I was there."

"Well, you just didn't find the right place," Jack countered. He continued to scan the area for something big enough to be clearly seen while trying to stay hidden. "Wait, Daniel. When I bailed from the ship—it looked like we left a hell of a trench from impact."

"Okay, okay. That should help. Are you safe? Have you seen any Jaffa?"

"No, not yet. Thank God. Oh, Daniel—Jacob and Carter, they okay?"

"Yes, Jack, we all decided to wait on you. Jacob's going to be relieved to see you."

"I'll believe that when I see it. And Car—Sam?"

"She's—wait, Launching the UAV in three . . . two. . . one. UAV is launched. Let me know when you hear us."

Daniel nodded to Siler to disengage the wormhole and waited. It'd taken longer than he'd have liked to locate the wreckage, but, thankfully, Jack was closer to the gate than they'd thought. _If only we'd started with a counter-clockwise search pattern instead going clockwise, he'd have been back before now, Daniel thought. _

He glanced at his watch. 4:30 a.m. It seemed later. Or earlier, maybe. Depending. God, his mind was wandering. He needed sleep. The couple of hours he had holding Sam wasn't enough to recharge him. Even so, Daniel was sure Jack needed sleep worse. Thanks to him, Jack had been working on only about four hours sleep since he and Sam had arrived two nights ago. 

"Have you notified General Hammond that Colonel O'Neill is on his way back to the gate?" Daniel asked.

"Just about to, sir. Didn't want to wake him at home until we were certain we had him."

"I think it's safe to call him now, Siler."

"Yes, sir. And, Major Carter?"

"Let's let her husband tell her himself," Daniel said. The word came out easier than he'd thought it would. Daniel planned to let them stick to their story even though he knew the truth. No reason to reveal what Sam had shared with him. The truth wouldn't change anything, especially her feelings for Jack. That became clear when he held her as she cried, the stress finally taking its toll. Whether she admitted it or not, she was in love with her commanding officer, and as far as Daniel could judge by Jack's actions, he returned those feelings. _God help them if they get back home._

Daniel looked up as the inner ring began to spin again on the Stargate. As usual, the klaxons went off, as if the lights and sirens within the control room weren't enough to alert the personnel of the gate's activity.

"Off-world activation," Siler said in his usual monotone. "Closing the iris." They watched the protective device swirl shut just before the vortex whooshed and stabilized into an active wormhole. "Receiving IDC. It's SG-1's code, Dr. Jackson. Colonel O'Neill made it."

"Well, open the iris, Siler, before—" Daniel began.

"Oh. Yeah. Opening the iris," Siler said, entering in the computer code. The iris swirled open revealing the shimmering blue event horizon. "I don't usually do this, you know. I'm on the back-up crew. Graham is out sick."

"You're kidding. I wouldn't have known," Daniel said dryly before leaving his spot behind Siler to hurry down the stairs and enter the gate room. It seemed to Daniel to be a miracle that Jack had survived the transport crash. 

Once the UAV located the faint smoke still rising from the smoldering ruins, it had been easy to find the debris field. And what a debris field. The ship, which had been larger than a Hat'ak, left a trench that was at least a mile long, pieces of it littering the landscape. God only knew how Jack managed to walk out of that ship alive. The portion of the ship that remained intact was easily only the size of a small cargo ship. 

Daniel made it to the ramp just as Jack, still wearing his Jaffa warrior armor sans the headgear, emerged from the gate. He was unusually pale. Dried blood matted his hair and stained his face, an obvious indication of some sort of head wound. Daniel also noticed the crude bandages that wrapped Jack's hands. Under an arm, Jack had tucked his battle fatigues. His boots, tied at the laces, dangled from a shoulder. 

"Need a medic in here," Daniel called over his shoulder to Siler. 

"Cancel that, Siler," Jack said loudly. "I'm okay, Daniel. I'm just . . . a little . . . tired." Daniel went to take Jack's bundled uniform from him, simultaneously slipping his arm around Jack to keep the man from collapsing.

"Yeah, probably because of blood loss. Jack, why didn't you tell us you were injured? I'd have—"

"You'd have come through yourself, I know. That's why. Didn't need to lose more good people." Jack's words were a little slurred. 

Daniel couldn't tell if the slurring was from the head injury, blood loss, or exhaustion. Probably all of the above. "Yeah, you just thought that you were expendable since you're not from here."

"Teal'c said it best—"

"Teal'c was wrong. Everyone is of consequence, no matter their origin. Let's get you to the infirmary."

"No. Carter."

"Is still asleep. Janet gave her something to help her rest when you didn't make it back after the others. The medication didn't kick in until well after midnight. I think you have time to get cleaned up before you let her know you're back. Besides, you'd probably end up just scaring her the way you look now."

"Okay, okay. Let's go see ol' Doc Fraiser and her damned needles."

Chuckling to himself, Daniel thought how some things just didn't seem to change—like Jack's aversion to needles. As they walked together out of the gate room, Daniel noticed Jack reaching for a necklace and pulling it over his head. He held it out to Daniel, the oddly colored crystal glittered an eerie blue-green as it dangled from the intricate chain. 

"Give it to Jacob. It's the key."

"Give it to him yourself," Daniel said, pushing it back to him. "He's resting in the infirmary while Selmac heals him."

"How bad?"

"Mostly exhaustion. It must be catching," Daniel said. He caught a brief grin flash across Jack's face. "Let's get you patched up."

"No. God, I'm getting to old for this," Jack said, groaning as he single-handedly tugged the key's necklace over his head. His hand ached from the effort, the motion of his fingers aggravated the lacerations on his palm. 

"I'm going to hit the showers first, Daniel. I know, I need stitches, but I stink and I need to get out of . . . of this." Jack looked down at the armor and chain mail he wore. "And I won't be able to do that on my own after Doc bandages my hands. I'll be damned lucky if I can still move my fingers when she gets through with me."

Daniel punched the call button for the elevator and then stared at the older man. "Fine. But you better not pass out on me in the shower stall, okay? That would be something I would not want to have to explain."

Feeling slightly revived after his shower, Jack made his way towards the infirmary. Peeking into the room, he saw Jacob lying on a nearby bed. He glanced around for Frasier, certain that she waited to pounce on him with her needles. Seeing no sign of her, Jack breathed a sigh of relief.

"Jacob," he whispered softly. 

"Jack?" Jacob's voice was raspy with sleep. "You made it back."

"Looks that way."

"Did you get the key?" 

Jack pulled the chain holding the key over his neck, wincing as the chain slid through his fingers. "Right here. You have any idea where the lock is?"

Jacob held up his wrists. "Right here, on the underside of the right cuff."

Jack inserted the crystal and heard a humming sound. The cuffs on Jacobs wrists loosened, allowing the older man to shake them off.

Moving down to his ankles, Jack found a similar slot on the cuff of the right foot. A moment later, Jacob was free. The sheets rustled as Jacob sat up and moved to allow his feet to hang over the side of the bed. 

"You just don't know how good that feels." Jacob stretched his arms above his head, rotating his wrists while clenching and unclenching his fists. Then, he rotated his neck, first one direction, then the other. He followed that by stretching out his legs and rotating his ankles in the same manner as he had previously done with his wrists.

Remembering suddenly that he had an audience, Jacob looked up to see Jack staring at him strangely.

Embarrassed, he asked "Haven't you ever seen anyone stretch before?" 

"Oh yeah. Just not you. You've always seemed kind of dignified."

"But you don't really know _me, do you?"_

Taken aback for a moment, Jack hesitated. "No. I guess I don't."

"You're married to Sammie?" It was more of a statement than a question, by the intonation Jacob gave the words.

"Yes."

"She's worried about you, you know?"

"I know. She's my next stop."

"You better take care of her. So help me, if you hurt her, I'll find your reality and track you down myself."

"Don't worry. I would never hurt her. I'd rather die first than hurt Sam."

Staring hard at the younger man, Jacob saw the sincerity in Jack's eyes. "Yes, I believe you would."

Feeling exhaustion creep over him again, Jacob lay back on the bed. Jack moved to help gently lower the older man to the pillow. After ensuring that he was comfortable, Jack started to leave. Jacob stopped him. 

"Thanks Jack. For everything." Looking him straight in the eye, he continued, "I would have been proud to have had you as my son-in-law."

"You're welcome…Dad?" Jack grinned slightly. 

Chuckling, Jacob closed his eyes and let sleep claim him once again. Jack turned to leave only to run into a very irritated Doctor Frasier.

"Doc!" he blustered. "I was just on my way to see you."

"Colonel, if it isn't too much trouble for you, please follow me so that we can proceed with your exam."

"Yes ma'am," Jack flipped off a jaunty salute. Turning on her heel, Janet walked away quickly; leaving Jack to follow and wondering what he'd done to irritate her further.

_Uh-oh, he thought.__ This is so not going to be fun._

Climbing up on the exam bed, Jack watched as she assembled her supplies onto a cart. Her movements were short and choppy, a sure indication her high state of agitation.

_What I did to piss her off this time, he thought._

"Open," she commanded, not waiting for him to argue. She inserted a thermometer under his tongue, nearly jabbing a hole in the tender flesh.

Jack stifled a yelp at the sudden pain, but Janet ignored him. Instead, she pulled on latex gloves, snapping the wrists into place, and began to examine the cut at his scalp. "Looks like you cleaned it up pretty well. A little antiseptic and some butterfly adhesive ought to do the trick."

As Janet finished attending the head wound, the thermometer beeped. She pulled it from his mouth, checked it, and noted the temperature on his chart.

"Normal. That's good. It lessens the chance for an infection." Her tone remained cool as she spoke. "Any other injuries I should know about?"

"Just these." Jack held up his badly injured hands. He'd disposed of the makeshift bandages in the locker room. The jagged cuts still oozed and white pieces of skin bordered the rough edges of the wounds.

Janet inhaled sharply. "Those look pretty bad. What did you do?"

"I had to pull myself out of a hole in the cargo ship," he explained. "The edges were kind of sharp."

"I'd say so." Janet poured antiseptic on a sterile gauze pad as she spoke The silence between them grew awkward while she began cleaning his wounds with the gauze.

"Sonofa . . . that stings." Jack jerked as she touched a particularly deep tear.

"Sorry, Colonel. It has to be done. Maybe if you had come to see me first, it wouldn't have been so bad." 

"Look, Doc, I'm sorry I didn't come right away, but you try being jammed into a dead Jaffa's armor. Believe me, you should be glad I showered first," he said, trying a smile on her, "besides, I didn't think these were that serious."

"Oh for cryin' out loud!" Janet exclaimed. "That's just like you. Always downplaying your injuries. Always acting as if taking care of yourself isn't that important. You act as if nothing bad could ever happen to you. That you'll always survive, always come out on top. So far you've been lucky, but one day your luck's going to run out." 

Tears threatened to spill over and Janet turned away quickly. He'd been through enough, she didn't mean to dump her pent-up feelings on him. She certainly didn't want him to try to deal with a crying female. He didn't do tears well.

"Whoa, Doc. Where'd that come from?" Jack asked. To say he was stunned would be an understatement. He rarely saw Janet's ire get raised this high. Hell, the threat of more needle pokes alone kept him in line back home. This was about much more than his not coming to the infirmary first, Jack suddenly realized. _Aw, crap. This was more alternate reality twilight zone stuff. Jack had the sense that this was going to get . . . squicky._

"Janet?" he crooned, his voice soft. "Janet, talk to me."

Janet kept her back to him as she rearranged the items and trying unsuccessfully to regain control over her emotions. "Sorry. You didn't deserve that. It's just . . .."

"Yes?" 

"It's just that you're so much like my Jack, and—"

"_Your Jack? Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that you and the Colonel O'Neill in this universe were . . . ?"_

"Involved? Yes, and we had this same argument before he left for that damned planet. He never took care of himself properly and now, and now, now he's gone." Her voice trembled with the emotion she was trying to suppress.

"Janet, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say." Never good with emotions, Jack began to fidget, starting to reach out to her only to hold himself back.

Janet turned, smiling at him through her tears. "If you're anything like my Jack, this is making you very uncomfortable. I didn't mean to unload on you."

_Whoa, déjà vu . Jack's mind flashed to Dr. Samantha Carter saying similar things about losing __her Jack. "I know I'm not your Jack. I'm sorry. But in my universe, I am your friend, and you look like you could use a friend right now." He held open his arms, inviting her into a hug, and she took advantage of his offer. Janet buried her face in his chest, breathing in his fresh-from-the-shower scent one last time, remembering the good times, silently telling 'her Jack' goodbye._

Eventually, she drew a deep, shuddering breath and stepped back a bit.

"Feel better?" 

"Much," she answered quietly. Janet started to wipe at her eyes but stopped, realizing her hands were still gloved. As she began to de-glove, she felt the gentle brush of the back of Jack's fingers against her face, wiping away her tears. Meeting his warm brown eyes once again, Janet backed away from his touch. He was just too real. _He's not Jack. He's simply another patient, Janet told herself, shoving her raw feelings to the far recesses of her mind. Turning back to business and donning her usual professional manner, Janet turned his damaged hands palms up to start repairs to the flesh again._

"Let's get you bandaged up," she said a little too brightly. 

"Okay."

"Okay? That's it? No arguments?" 

Jack smiled sadly, his compassion for Janet's situation kept his usually surly behavior in check. "No arguments. My hands are in your hands, Doc."

An hour and a half later, stitched, bandaged, and debriefed, Jack finally returned to their VIP room. _Their_ room. Pausing at the door, he fumbled with the handle, struggling to open it with his injured hands. _Crap. Just his luck. __Survive the mission, get home, and get stuck at the door. All he wanted to do was join her in bed—he hoped she still slept, her body warm and soft. God, it would feel good just to fall asleep holding her, listening to her breathe, feeling her heart beat next to his. Now, if he could just get the damn door open without waking her._

Finally, the door handle cooperated, and Jack slowly pushed open the door to enter the still-dark room, shutting the door behind him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness only to find the bed an empty, shapeless tangle of sheets. No Sam. _Well, so much for dreaming. _

Jack decided to leave the lights off; the hallway light spilling in through the crack at the bottom of the door provided just enough dimness to navigate the room. Sighing as he sat down, Jack heard the mattress squeak under his weight. After he'd grab a few hours of sleep he'd look for her. He was too darned tired to hunt for her now. 

Yanking off his uniform shirt and t-shirt, he threw the clothing at a chair on the other side of the room. His boots followed, dropping to the floor with a thump, the sound muffled by the carpeting. Kicking them off hands-free was accomplished easily since he'd left the laces untied after his shower. He'd figured he wouldn't be able to deal with the laces after Fraiser had gotten hold of him, and he'd been right. She'd only left his fingers free from the middle knuckles down, making things like laces difficult. He flopped backwards onto the bed and melted into the cool sheets. 

Sighing again, Jack shut his eyes against the dimness of the room, still sensing the rapid acceleration of the transport ship in its freefall to the planet's atmosphere. The sensation was like one would get after surviving a car crash or on a roller coaster—that skin-crawling feeling of motion. His gut lurched when he felt the ship's descent. The Jaffa on board were searching for him, so he'd hidden in the nearest space he could—that storage bay. Then the sudden, violent impact when they hit the ground. He had to give credit to whoever had piloted the thing. Bringing them in on an angle had allowed the ship to slice into the planet's surface rather than splatter it into millions of bits of metal and smoldering pieces. 

Jack crossed an arm over his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. In. Out. Slow and even. Just as he began to drift to sleep, he heard a door open. He raised his head in time to see the light turn off in the bathroom. Sam must've awakened recently. She wore only an oversized black t-shirt that stopped just above mid-thigh, revealing her bare legs. 

"Carter."

"Colonel?" she asked as she peered into the dark room.

"Yeah. Who else would be in your bed at this time of the morning?" Jack teased. He moved so that he would lay lengthwise instead of crosswise on the bed, punched and stacked the pillows at the head of the bed, and then reclined against them. 

"No one, usually." She crawled into bed next to him and sat Indian-style facing him, dragging the sheet up over her bare legs. "You're still in one piece?"

"More or less."

"What took so long?"

"Were you worried?" he asked. 

Sam looked away from him. "I was beginning to think that . . ."

"I wasn't coming back?" He saw Sam nod. "I nearly ended up on the wrong side of the universe. The transport decided to leave orbit just after I'd taken out Bael's first prime for the key to Jacob's cuffs."

"How?"

"Remember those crystals we shot up so we'd drop out of hyperdrive so we could launch the cargo ship when the replicators . . .?"

"You did the same thing?"

"Yep. She sank like a rock."

"And you crashed? Into the planet?"

"Yep."

"Oh my God! You're lucky you weren't killed! Are you okay?" Sam leaned over him to turn on the bedside lamp flooding the room with a soft glow. As she pulled back, she saw the butterfly adhesives closing a gash at his hairline, the surrounding area swollen and inflamed. Jack stopped her as she reached out to touch the wound, grasping her wrist with a bandaged hand.

"I'm fine."

"Oh, God, sir, your hands," Sam whispered when she felt the softness of the sterile gauze bandaging them. 

"Getting out of the cargo hold. Just my dumb luck there," he joked, shrugging off his injuries. Sam just stared at him intently.

"Staying back there alone like that, what were you thinking anyway?"

"It doesn't matter. It's over."

"It does matter, sir. It matters to me."

"'Sir?'" he repeated, turning cold inside as he heard that damned word. "Are we back to that? I didn't expect to hear you call me that until we got home."

"Wouldn't be a _we going home if you'd gotten yourself killed, or worse."_

Jack said nothing. Instead, he stared at her wrist he still held within his grasp. Relaxing his grip, he slid his hand to hold hers loosely, his thumb lightly stroking her fingers. She was right. Arguing the point would be . . . pointless. He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed their delicate tips. 

"I'm sorry. I saw a chance to get Jacob outta there and I took it. After Teal'c said those cuffs on Jacob would blow if tampered with . . . I just didn't want you to get hurt trying to help him."

He gently tugged on her hand in an effort to pull her into his embrace, his eyes finally shifted from her fingers to her face when she resisted. She stared at him with a mixture of anger, caring, and disbelief painting her features. Her expression hurt him more than his hands did, and his stomach knotted up when he realized just how worried about him she'd been. 

All he'd been able to think about when that ship pulled out of orbit was of coming home to her, holding her. Going for Jacob had been the right thing to do; Jack knew that. Not getting back to Sam had been his biggest fear, and that was something he'd ignored to get the job done. He never imagined that she'd held that same fear.

"Sam, please," Jack pleaded. He tugged on her hands again and this time she relented, allowing him to cradle her within his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder, stretching her legs out along the length of him. 

He closed his eyes against the light and exhaled, content with her body pressed to his. _God, this feels good. __She feels good. Jack absently stroked the bare skin of her arm with his fingertips, causing goose bumps to spring up under his light touch._

"You know, I really shouldn't stay here with you. I should get to work," she said finally. "I found the plans for the RDD last night while you were gone."

"Well, at least we'll have something useful to take home with us from this little vacation."

"We should really speak with General Hammond about getting a team to see if the quantum mirror is still on P3R-233."

"I know. Later," he said, a hushed, soothing tone to his voice. "A couple of more hours won't make any difference, Sam."

"But if the mirror's—"

"Shh."

"But—" she began, raising her head up to look at him. 

"Sam, stay with me while I rest," Jack said. He opened his eyes to find her staring at him. "Please? Let's enjoy this while we can. We'll be home soon enough, so what's a few more hours?" he asked tiredly, his voice impassive. But his eyes, usually so guarded, said so much more. Sam could see how much he needed her.

Wordlessly, she leaned across him to turn off the light. As she moved back, he caught her by the arms, holding her in place, their faces so close he could feel the warmth of her breath against his mouth. Jack slid his fingers along the cool silkiness of her arms and she dropped her palms to his bare chest, branding his skin and sending liquid heat through his body.

"Sam," he whispered, urging her closer, slipping his hand behind her head to guide her face to his. Still holding her firm, he kissed her, hard and demanding, desperate to explore the softness of her mouth. His tongue traced the silky fullness of her lips, sending tremors of desire racing through her. A soft cry escaped her as she opened her mouth to his, returning his kiss with a hunger equal to his own. God, even if he never had to leave her again, he'd still never get enough of her. 

Jack slid his hands under her t-shirt, only able to use his fingertips to stroke her skin; the smooth velvet of her back masked from him by the bandages on his hands. Drawing in a sharp breath when he realized she no longer wore her elastic bandages or her bra, Jack let his hands roam to her waist, then her stomach. His fingers trailed higher and higher along her taut abdomen until he cupped the fullness of her breasts, her nipples hardening instantly under the brush of his thumbs. 

"Jack, ahh . . . oh, God," she gasped against his lips, breathing heavily and melting under his insistent caress. 

He was amazed at the effect he had on her as he felt her melt within his arms. Who'd have thought that he'd be able to cause her to lose the ability to speak? Reclaiming her lips, he took her mouth with an urgency, an intensity, that he'd never imagined feeling. His fingers skimmed from the top of her bikini panties to the rounded curves of her breasts, lighly caressing the soft contours, dipping lower on every pass until she trembled from his touch.

Sam surprised Jack by straddling his hips and settling her weight against him. She leaned forward and he dropped his hands to her thighs while her t-shirt brushed against his bare chest. Bending low over him, propping her arms on the pillow behind him, she pressed her lips to his, lingering, savoring every nuance of him as she covered his mouth with hers, sending unexpected shockwaves of need through him. 

"Sam?" he whispered hoarsely. 

"Jack?" she kissed him again, feather soft whispers of kisses against his smooth cheek, his lips, his neck.

"Whatcha doing?"

"If you have to ask, I'm not doing this right," she teased.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," he said groaning while grasping her hips with his fingers to adjust her position against him. Sitting up, she gasped at the movement and, in the dim light, Jack saw the surprise on her face when she felt the hard evidence of his desire. 

"That's not my sidearm this time, Sam."

"No," she said, her accompanying giggle husky, sexy. "I didn't think it was."

Jack again slid his hands under her shirt, the rough warmth of his fingers contrasting with the scratchy softness of the gauze bandages as his hands traveled from her hips to the small of her back and up to her shoulder blades. 

She arched under his touch and allowed him to sweep the t-shirt over her head. Then his hands were around her back, again pulling her down to him, trapping her against his hard chest as she began to move against him, almost a reflexive action he thought, and he knew neither of them was thinking about the consequences of what they were doing. 

_Shit. Now she had him doing it, __thinking when he should be feeling, enjoying._

Sam rocked forward, her breasts brushing deliciously against the coarse hair of his bare chest, and she must have enjoyed the sensation because she rocked back against him and then forward again, each backward thrust sending Jack further into an abyss of longing. He knew if they didn't end this now, he wouldn't ask her again and they might . . . 

"You want me to stop?" he asked, running his hands over her breasts again, committing every inch of her body to memory. She rubbed against the hardness of him again eliciting a moan of pleasure from him before leaning down to his ear on an upstroke. "No," she whispered, before pressing a kiss against the soft hollow behind his ear. She kissed a path from his throat to his chest, and she surprised him again when he felt her tongue flick against his right nipple, then his left. 

God, he felt like a teenager again as she began to slowly drive him insane. He held the woman of his dreams within his arms and she was more than ready for him, but he knew her—he remembered what she'd said a couple nights back, and, damn him to hell, he had to make sure she was sure. He wanted no regrets between them. 

"Samantha, baby, are you sure? There's no going back from here." He was amazed that he was able to put together a coherent sentence. 

Stilling against him, she pressed his hand against her chest, the strong rhythm of her heart playing hard and fast against his wrapped palm. "No, I'm not sure. But, God, Jack, I want you. I don't want to stop," she said. Her breathing was as heavy as his and he felt her body stiffen against the palm of his hand as the desire clouding her judgment began to clear. 

"Then don't." 

Jack sat up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist, and tenderly hugged her to him. Skin to skin. Heart to heart. He kissed her again. Softly, delicately, his lips caressed hers. His exquisite tenderness stole her breath away and tinged her eyes with tears. 

She moaned against his lips, the honesty of his kiss jolting her senses. "That's so not fair."

"Never said I played fair, Sam," he said, his voice throaty with barely controlled passion. "I just want you—I want us to be certain."

"I know," she said in a low voice. "If we do this, going home will be harder on us, don't you think?" 

Jack inhaled and exhaled slowly to regain some control over his body. "I think it'll be hard whether or not we make love, no pun intended . . . I want _you, Sam."_

"I know. I want you, too."

"I know. So?"

"So?"

They sat in silence and Jack waited for one of them to move, to initiate the next touch, to change their minds. But that wasn't happening. Well, he had to be the gentleman and open his big mouth. 

"Shit," he said, groaning. "All right. We're right to stop. This is right," he said as much to convince himself as to agree with her. 

Slipping off of his lap to sit beside him on the bed, Sam reached for her t-shirt and tugged it over her head. She knew they were right to stop, too, but hated that they had to, and she hated herself to some degree that she couldn't bring herself to forget their respective military positions. They'd already crossed _a line, they'd breached regulations to an extent she had trouble believing. But, why couldn't she bring herself to cross __the line? _

"Jack, when we get back home . . . ."

"I know." 

Jack reclined and pulled her down with him. Again, she snuggled deep into his embrace, this time her head more on his upper chest than his shoulder, so that her head rose and fell with each breath. 

And again, Jack was amazed at how good she felt in his arms. "You're so lucky I love you, you know? I don't know that I could do this if I didn't." 

"What?" she asked.

"What?"

"What did you say?"

"I said I didn't know if I'd be so willing to wait for this, for us, if I didn't love you. 

"Oh." She sounded shocked.

"You can't tell me you didn't know, Major." 

When she didn't answer, he pressed further. "Sam?"

"I-I just never expected to hear you say . . . "

"I know." Jack continued to stroke the smooth skin of her back as he spoke, enjoying the ability to touch her without fear of repercussions, at least for the time they had left together in this reality. If and when they got back home, Jack knew this closeness would have to disappear.

"Why?"

"I didn't have a choice, Sam. That seduction scene in the locker room a few years ago just made me start thinking. And then every year you've--this just got a little harder to forget about."

He felt her smile against his chest. "No, I meant, why tell me now?"

"Oh." He heard her giggle. "I had a close call today, Sam. I didn't know if I'd get back to you. If I never get the chance to tell you again, I just wanted you to know."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"I-I don't know what to say."

"Not expecting anything, Sam." He kissed the top of her head before closing his eyes settling back against the pillow, smiling to himself as her fingers traced circles on his stomach. 

Sam listened to him breathe, felt his heart beating under her cheek, and she knew he'd fall asleep soon. When he did, she'd leave. 

She needed to locate information regarding the quantum mirror if they had any hope of getting back home. Sam knew what she needed to do and, yet, she instantly regretted her decision to leave him while he slept. All she really wanted to do was to stay with him like this, to wake up in his arms and pick up where they'd stopped. No thoughts of consequences, no regrets.

_Damn, the regulations, anyway. They were damned if they broke them and damned if they didn't. They lived an impossible life within the SGC, seeing things they couldn't share, living experiences that couldn't come to light outside of the mountain. The fraternization regulations shouldn't apply to them, anyway. How could anyone have a healthy relationship with someone outside of the program? Those who tried were living an enormous lie._

She should be happy. Jack loved her. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but she couldn't. She was living a Gordian knot. To be together, they couldn't go home. To go home, where they belonged, they would have to let each other go. She had no idea how they were going to untangle this mess, or even if she wanted to.

It would be so easy to stay here, refugees from a mission gone wrong. They could be who they said they were, a married couple from another reality. Even though Daniel knew the truth, Sam felt sure he would support them if they chose to stay. 

_But, we can't stay, Sam told herself. __We don't belong here. No matter their feelings, no matter what consequences they may face because of their past few days together, they needed to get back to their reality and soon. If they waited much longer they might choose not to go. _

After seeing the fallout from the deaths of Carter and O'Neill in this reality, Sam hated that everyone they knew and loved back home was experiencing the same thing. Staying where they were would mean condemning their friends and family to similar grief. 

They didn't have the right to do that. If there was a way back home, it was their duty to get there. Just as it would be their duty to walk away from each other once they returned. 

Hearing his now-familiar low rumble of a snore, Sam eased out of his arms and grabbed her BDU's off of the table to dress. Whether she liked it or not, she had to get them home.

The End

To see if Sam and Jack make it back to their reality, go to

Skipped Stones: Full Circle  

Fall 2002


End file.
